


Cerulean

by LaReinaCrimrose



Category: Brothers Conflict
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Family, High School, Incest???, Japan, LITERALLY, Retelling, Romance, Slice of Life, like shes kickass, strong female lead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-12-23 08:01:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11985612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaReinaCrimrose/pseuds/LaReinaCrimrose
Summary: Vivi Hinata values honesty and integrity above all else, and has become increasingly independent due to her father's job keeping him from home often. Everything changes when he comes home and announces his remarriage to a woman she's never met. For the sake of his happiness, she happily goes along with it; even when she discovers she'll be obtaining thirteen new stepbrothers, and moving into the same house as them. Ever the pinnacle of optimism, she's ready to make the best of a weird situation. Even though as time passes, she feels her relationship with her new brothers slowly begin to become tense and not at all what she bargained for. *I suck at summaries but it's a retelling more focused on the game so if you've only seen the anime and would like to experience more, this shit's for you.





	1. Homecoming

**Chapter One**

_**Homecoming** _

"Juli, would you mind passing some eggs?"

"What?!" He screeches in return, holding his clawed paws over his ears. "I literally cannot understand a word you're saying over this music!"

"Oh!" I had nearly forgotten about the music screaming from the stereo, the bass thumping the hardwood floors and shaking the cabinets containing plates and glassware. I wipe my hands on my apron and rush over to turn the volume knob significantly lower, settling the dishes and earning a relieved sigh from the fidgety squirrel. He levels me with a glare from his almost all-black eyes ringed with blue, tugging on his bow indignantly.

"Do you want to lose your hearing?" He demands of me, and I just grin sheepishly. "Not to mention you're definitely disturbing the neighbours with all that racket."

I let out a giggle and grab the eggs myself since my hands weren't covered with flour any longer. "I doubt that." The neighbours always know when I was in a good mood by myself, since I blare the music with enough power to shatter one's eardrums. In my father's absence, they often invite me over for dinner and the like, share sugar or milk for tea with me – just wholeheartedly good, neighbourly things. I suppose having a seventeen-year-old basically living on their own in the house next to yours would be a cause for anxiety, so they had no issues with taking care of me or checking up on me. There's no way in hell I was going to complain; I'm immensely grateful to them for doing that, especially since nobody had asked them to. They've known me all my life, know how often my father is away, so I consider them something identical to distant family.

Juli makes one big leap from the island to my shoulder, his little sharp talons digging into it, but he's been around my whole life; I am very well used to it by now. "You shouldn't be taking them for granted like that," he chirps, and I roll my eyes a little, a grin still tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Anyone's bound to get irritated with music that loud."

"You're absolutely right," I say, both to appease him and because it's true. "Sorry. I won't do it again." I cop it all off with a cheeky little salute, so he knows I'm being a bit sarcastic. However, I can't help it; Dad is coming home for the first time in months today, so I'm eagerly prepping a special dinner and dessert for him. I sway and sing along with the song now playing softly, and Juli watches me soak the chicken in eggs, flour, then Panko mixed with different seasonings.

He's something akin to a parent – Juli, that is. I can't remember a day without him since I was born, perching at the edge of my crib or doing his best to care for me when I was sick in that miniature rodent body of his. The idea of a completely sentient squirrel capable of speech is definitely off-putting to some, but the problem isn't with him being a product of some strange mutation or magical curse; it's with me. I'm the only one who can understand him, who gets that he prefers sleeping in the bed with me rather than in a tree, or that he loves his magenta and white polkadotted ribbon as a fashion statement. He's the only animal I can understand – it isn't some strange power I was born with. Which, admittedly, makes the situation a whole lot more bizarre, but I won't take it for granted. He's a wonderful companion who refuses to leave my side. He understand how easily I can become lonely, without Dad ever around and all, and there has never been a day where I'd wished not to hear the sound of his high-pitched voice.

Or maybe I'm just completely certifiable. Nonetheless, being with him is still fun, and if I am crazy, I'm going to make the most of it.

"Great," I say to myself as Juli pulls on the tap to turn on the water for me to wash my hands. "Now all that's left is the soup, salad, and the castella is in the oven! I'm so excited Juli, I haven't seen Dad in forever!" I figure it safe to say that I'm normally someone collected, but I can't keep the girlish squeal out of my voice as I hop up and down a bit. I run over to turn up the music again – not too loud this time – and start gathering ingredients for the miso soup and garden salad. There's a skip in my step as I sing along to the words of Africa – since Dad is an adventurer, it's safe to say that my English is more developed than most kids' my age. I can understand every word, yet still relish in the smooth beats typical to the '80s, and it remains that way until the chorus hits. Then I'm practically screaming out the words as Juli shakes his head, but is unable to keep the smile off of his face. In my good cheer dinner is practically fully prepped by eight o'clock at night, when Dad said he'd be coming in from the airport. I'd gleefully offered to meet him there, but he didn't want me outside by myself that late at night. I had almost said that I'd be fine, because Juli would be with me, but I seriously doubted that he'd be comforted with me only having a squirrel as my defense to fend off attackers. So I let it be.

I press my hands to my cheeks, giddy. The presentation doesn't look too shabby, with a basil paste smeared over the chicken and topped off with fresh leaves, springs of leek floating in the center of the soup, the salad tossed with a balsamic vinaigrette, balanced with the sweetness of chopped strawberries. Even the cake is resting under some very light icing with slight lemon zest, and have the tea all prepped and ready to serve. All that's left is me – I have to change into clothes that look a bit nicer, without spots of flour garnishing them. I quickly whip off my apron and toss it down the stairs to the basement, to mix in with the dirty laundry later, and release my hair from its sloppy bun.

I glide through the spacious living room, decorated with modern furniture, such as a bright white sectional and sleek entertainment unit with a flatscreen resting on top. The Persian rug nearly trips me for the nth time, and I reposition the leg of the couch to hold that annoying flap that keeps sticking up, down. The walls, bookshelves bursting with thick texts and travel magazines, and display units all boast of his travels. Traditional African masks of the humanoid variety grin at visitors, miniature replicas of the Eiffel Tower and Taj Mahal give a worldly view, Indian tapestries conceal the blandness of the eggshell wall – having an adventurer for a father sure gives your house character. 'Adventurer' is his unofficial title; his official one is a journalist for a travel magazine, so instead of being out in an office all day every day, he was gone for weeks or months at a time to foreign countries, always coming back with tales to weave and souvenirs to add to the massive collections.

It's easy to get lonely in a big house like this filled with things that only remind me of him, but it's home. I can't imagine living anywhere else without the slightly peculiar décor, or a room that was almost always empty. This place is a haven for my father when he returns from his adventures, and I plan to keep it that way, spic and span with a warm welcome always awaiting him.

My room is much simpler, done in white and shades of pastel pink and blue. I toss of my old  _Lion King_ short-sleeve and jean shorts, and throw on a simple jet long-sleeved dress. I top it off with a looping gold chain necklace, and fluff out my hair a bit, then quickly give up and whip it up into its usual high bun tied off with a scrunchie. As I examine myself in the mirror, Juli squeezing open his treat jar of walnuts in the background, I wonder why I feel a strange anxiety over this particular homecoming. Dad and I are in constant communication when he's away, so I know he's all right. Yet I can't help but feel oddly nervous. Maybe I'd messed up with the food? I mull that over, hear the door slam shut downstairs, and decide that whatever happens, happens. Right now I'm far too excited to see Dad's face to care.

Like I'm five-years-old again, I bound down the stairs in my pink slippers, past the living room, and into the entry hall, where my father is setting down all of his luggage and stepping out of his sleek black loafers. I have to physically restrain myself from throwing myself into his arms by folding my hands in front of me and clenching them together against my abdomen. "Welcome home, Dad," I say, sounding close to tears. Which I am. Just a little.

Rintaro Hinata looks up from toeing off his shoes, and his mouth spreads into a wide boyish grin. His pitch black stubble had grown in again, dusting across his chin and cheeks, accompanied by his surfer dude waves gelled away from his face. His skin had gotten tanned to an almost golden-brown hue, his mahogany eyes crinkling at the corners from his smile, the lines in his face still youthful and not yet wrinkles. He wore a suit jacket and tan pants over a checkered vest and white scarf tied into an elegant knot, seeing as it's much cooler in Europe in May than it is in Japan. He opens his arms wide, and I quickly shuffle forward to squeeze him tight, the comforting smell of his cologne washing over me. It's a cologne different than the kind he normally wears, slightly spicier and fresh. Weird. He said he didn't like scents like that…

"My lovely little girl," he sings, planting a kiss on the top of my head and all is forgiven. We each pick up some of his luggage to cart into the living room, and he keeps one arm wrapped around my shoulders. "Have you been doing okay? I know I asked that earlier today, but-" He cuts himself off and takes a whiff of the air, and gets a knowing glimmer in his eyes. "What is that  _amazing smell_?"

"Dinner, of course," I grin widely as we set down his stuff in the living room. Juli bounds up to us and hops onto Dad's shoulder, snuggling into his cheek. Dad scratches under his chin, something Juli isn't too jonesed about, but he puts up with it anyway for Dad's sake.

"Have you been taking good care of my girl, Juli?" He asks my friend fondly, and Juli responds with a snarky "Who do you think I am?", but all Dad can hear is a series of squeaks. He scuttles down his arm and into the kitchen, signalling for us to do the same. "I see you've been listening to the classics," he chuckles, referring to the music streaming from my phone to the stereo. Bohemian Rhapsody was on, Freddie Mercury wailing into the stainless steel kitchen, and I cranked it down a bit so we could have a nice talk without yelling over the music.

"Wow," Dad says, whistling in admiration. "You've outdone yourself this time, Vivi." He wraps me in another bear hug, and the feeling of his warm arms tight around me almost brings me to tears again. I'd missed him so much, and hope that he's going to stay home longer this time. I miss those times when I was younger and we'd just curl up on the couch together and watch a movie, me against his side and a bowl of popcorn in his lap.

The only thing missing from our family picture was a mother. I never knew my mom; Dad says she died giving birth to me. There are no pictures of her in the house, and I'd always supposed that the memory was still too fresh for him. He had never been with anyone since I was born, either, and I often come to wonder if he ever will, if he still loves her even in death. The only thing that strikes me as odd is how we don't even have a shrine or photo to pray to, and I often wish we do. However, I spent my whole life without her, so I can't say that there's much to miss; as far as I'm concerned, all I need is Dad and Juli, and I'd be just fine.

He sits down at the table and I pour tea into his cup, before doing the same to my own. We clap our hands together and quickly say our prayer before digging in; he'd always preferred cutlery to chopsticks, and it's easier to cut the chicken with, so for the first few moments there is only the scrape of silver against the plates and then his sound of approval in the back of his throat. "Oh, how I've missed your cooking, kiddo," he says with a grin, and I return it easily. What I've missed most of all is him just being at the dinner table with me.

From an outside perspective, the moment is probably as perfect as a photo. We eat and laugh together as he tells me stories of his time in Ireland and Scotland, how different the two countries actually are despite their common association, and the difficult situations he'd gotten into comparing the two. Before long we're digging into the castella cake, and the spike of lemon in the frosting perfectly offsets the fluffiness of the simple spongecake. The blinds are up, revealing the streets outside from the bay window in the living room and letting all the streetlights illuminate the night as if magically, warm lights shining from the other houses in the neighbourhood. I'm so happy in this moment, my chest absolutely swelling with joy and something like disbelief, as if I still can't really believe that he's here, in front of me, after two and a half months. Our dining table only seats two, and that's all we need; Juli simply eats on the table with us, and he never has an issue with me sanitizing it afterwards. It truly is perfect, and I swear that nothing can shatter this moment of peace. Not the nights studying alone, or trying to sleep amongst the eerie creaks and squeals in the house, or staring at the normally empty chair now full of my father across from me. I'm so filled with joy it's basically pouring out from my ears.

Suddenly his smile takes on a nervous edge. He takes a sip of his tea, dabs the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin. "Vivi," he says cautiously, and I look up from my cake to him with a smile.

"Yes, papa?" That's how he prefers I call him, when I refer to him more casually to myself. Juli just calls him by name; the squirrel always seems slightly standoffish to anyone but me, and is almost always defensive. Right then he looks slightly taken aback as well, wondering what could be on my father's mind.

"I have something important to say." His smile remains in place, but his eyes take on a serious edge that makes me set down my fork and sit up straighter in my seat. I hope it isn't about his job, or that he's going away for longer next time. I run through everything I'd done in the months he was gone, and figure I don't have anything to be ashamed or wary of. Yet he just seems so… so foreboding. The feeling of anxiety comes back, curling and twisting my stomach like a parasitic worm, clenching and unclenching and making me feel sick. I quell the brief flash of nausea and panic that swims through my torso and head, and resist pressing my fingers to my temples to calm the ache that's rapidly spreading there. The last thing I needed was to have a full-on anxiety attack right when he came home for the first time in months.

"I'm listening," I choke out, and tell myself firmly that there's no reason to be so scared. He stares at me a long while, the music becoming static white noise in the background, until the hard edge leaves his eyes and his eyebrows tilt down apologetically.

"It's nothing," he murmurs, returning to his tea. "I'll tell you later."

"Are you sure?" I ask, the sick feeling still lingering.

"I'm positive. It's really… not that important."

I look at him for a while, gauging on how sincere he's being. Then I shrug to myself and the anxiety washes away like sand being carried by the tides. "If you insist," I chirp, returning to my cake. He asks me about school, and that moment is nearly forgotten until I lay in bed later that night, listening deeply to the night chorus of insects and distant honking of cars further into the city.

I wonder what he'd wanted to say. Well, it couldn't have been too important if he was willing to put it off. Even so, I turn to lay on my back and stare up at my ceiling, and despite Juli's calm breathing and warm little body snuggled up next to me, I find I can't sleep for quite some time.

* * *

Sunday means that Dad and I can have the whole day together, so I get out of bed early to make us some coffee and start breakfast. It isn't like I got the best sleep anyway, so it's more accurate to say I all but dragged myself out of bed and down the stairs, not bothering to put on a robe. When the coffee is brewing, filling the air with the rich, dark scent of earth and the beans, Dad comes shuffling down the stairs, still in his pajamas, as well.

"Good morning," I try to say cheerily, but it comes out more like a croak. He says it in response right before a gaping yawn, then moves to sit at the dining table and cracks open his laptop to work briefly before breakfast is ready.

"Chii," Juli whispers to me, using his random pet name that always reminded me of what they tell you to say so you smile when a picture is being taken. He says he uses it due to the constant little smirk I have on my face. "I wonder what all that was about last night. Think he'll bring it up today?"

I shrug, nearly knocking him off my shoulder. "No idea," I say, because Dad was way more than used to me having a conversation with the light gray little critter. The coffee maker sputters out when both of our mugs are filled, and after I dump our preferred amount of sugar and cream into our cups, I set them on saucers and wipe up the rings they had left on the quartz countertop. "I'll start on breakfast after this," I promise him, setting his mug from England before him and taking my seat.

He smiles warmly at me, then gets a pensive look on his face. After a few moments of me testing how hot it is and burning my tongue slightly, he shuts the laptop abruptly, making me jump. "About what I said last night…" He begins, and I set my mug down on the table, leaving my hands wrapped around its circumference.

"Yes?"

He drags his finger around the rim of his cup, staring into the beige surface of the beverage as if it can offer up all the answers to his troubles. "There's something I haven't told you," he confesses, and I perk up a little in shock. We always told each other everything. "I was planning to when everything settled down and I had a concrete idea of what was going on, but then the timing never seemed right. And then I went on that job…"

"Dad," I say calmly, hoping to soothe that worried line creasing between his brows. "You know you don't have to be nervous or worried about telling me anything. I'm a big girl." I smile encouragingly. "I can handle myself."

This seems to reassure him, judging from the relief in his gaze. "Yes, you are, Vivi. So I'll just leave out all the little details and come out and say it." He takes a deep breath, steeling himself, and I suddenly recall that foreboding feeling I'd had right before he'd walked in the door last night. Just as my stomach gives a steep little dive, falling down a roller coaster after a long climb up, he says: "I've been seeing someone."

I practically collapse to the floor in relief. Is he trying to give me a damn heart attack? "That's great!" I cry, honestly enthusiastic. In all honesty, I'd been worried about him seeing no one after mother's death; he couldn't have expected to just live with me his entire life. "I'm honestly so fu-" I cut myself off, reminding myself that he thinks curse words aren't very ladylike. "So freaking happy for you." I scooch closer to the table, a mischievous smirk on my face. "What's their name?"

His eyes obtain a sort of fondness I'd never seen before, one that makes my chest squeeze endearingly. Whoever this person is, they're honestly making him happy. "Miwa Asahina." Asahina… why did that name sound familiar? Before I can ponder about it for too much longer, he barrels through, all of the built-up secrets he'd been keeping bursting out at once. "We met when I was working in China a while back. She's a very nice lady, so kind and loving." He pauses, looking at me hesitantly before continuing. "She has quite a few children, and is well accustomed to being around them. I swear, I've never met a mother with so much spunk in my life." His smile is so tender that I nearly squeal in joy for him.

"That's wonderful," I say sincerely, laying a hand over his. He squeezes mine, a bit clammy from how nervous he must have been. Though I don't understand why; what on earth is so frightening about telling your daughter you got a girlfriend? "When can I meet her?" I ask eagerly, practically bouncing in my seat.

He is, as well, judging from the anticipating smile on his face. "Soon. Probably sometime this week. There's one more thing I have to tell you about her, and this is honestly what intimidated me the most… but to see you so happy…"

"Of course I'm happy, Dad!" I exclaim, swatting him on the shoulder. Honestly, I'm a bit insulted that he thought telling me about her would be like throwing himself into a den of starving lions. "Why wouldn't I be? You deserve to be happy, you know –  _more_ than deserve, you have a right to it."

His eyes glisten like the dewy grass outside. "I'm glad you think so." He has to clear his throat before continuing. "Well… I actually came home a day or so before yesterday." My throat closes in surprise. He hadn't come to see me, even when he was home earlier? A feeling of dread suddenly begins curdling in my stomach like sour milk. "I've spent the time with her. And… Vivi, I want you to be the first to know, because your opinion matters the most to me." He takes a deep breath as I stare at him intensely, my heart pounding out of my chest. "I've asked her to marry me."

My breath catches.

All I can think of is the different cologne he wore, how suddenly he feels like a different person to me. Juli drops his walnut and it rolls to the floor, clattering as it bounces and fills the silence.

Dad's sorrel eyes bore into mine. "And she said yes."


	2. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi confides with her close friend about her father's remarriage, trying to sort out her feelings about it.

**Chapter Two**

_**Friends** _

"How about this one?" Maho-chan asks me, holding the black bra up to my chest.

"Hm," I mumble, holding it flush to my chest. "I dunno. I like the style, but it doesn't look like it will fit."

She purses her glossed lips thoughtfully. "That's always the problem with you." She swipes it away with a little twirl, her curls bouncing around her face. "More for me, then! This is why I love shopping with you."

A day has passed since Dad came home. The only really good girl friend I made in high school, Mahoko Imai, is out shopping with me, as I'm looking for a new dress to wear for when I meet Dad's fiancée on Friday.

I can feel emotion bleeding down from my chest into the pit of my stomach. Fiancée. Of all things I thought Dad had to say that day, the concept of him getting remarried was not one of them. Honestly, I don't know how to feel. I could go and on, ranting about the confusing swirl of emotions congesting my brain and suffocating me, but I settle for resting in a state of shock. I want to be happy for him. I said I was happy for him when he told me, but my heart wasn't in it, and I don't know why. It's a mystery to me, why I'm experiencing such inner turmoil about it. So I chose not to give myself any time to agonize over it, hence why this shopping trip is meant to be a distraction as well as an expedition. Maho-chan (as she prefers I call her) had to make a pit stop at the lingerie store to start with, so that's where we end up. The distraction tactic is working; that black bra she held up to me, composed of merely tasteful lace and string? I really want it. I feel like crying, desperately searching for it in my size as she throws skanky pairs of panties at me.

"These are cute as hell," she gasps, holding up a pair with crabs fiercely holding up their claws plastered all over them. I stare at her with a startled grin on my face, wondering if she gets the joke. "What?"

Apparently she doesn't. I press my lips together and go back to swiping hangers along the metal rails, trying not to laugh. "Nothing at all," I say.

She frowns at me, swats me with the crab panties. "You're real cute." There is a glimmer of humour in her milky chocolate eyes, her short, pert brows reaching up to her forehead as if they can touch the sky. "We might have to look at bathing suits after this, as well. I only have the one for last summer. And ta-da!" She cries, gesturing obscenely to her chest. "I grew again! So take that."

I don't tell her that I did, as well. "Whatever you say," I tease, then gasp in delight as I find the black one in my size. My throat chokes up. "God wanted me to have this."

"Lucky girl. This is, like, one of the only times that's happened." She was right. The cutest bras just aren't made in my size anymore. What a sad world we live in. "Look at those ones over there." My gaze follows to wear her finger is pointing, to see a display boasting of the store's new line composed of primary colours. We stroll over to it leisurely, scanning through the other objects on the way, and up close they really are adorable, with crisscrossing ribbons tying the two cups together in the middle and satin straps. "Damn."

"These are cute," I say, which is what I say about basically every piece of clothing I look at, as I do care about how I look, but not an awful lot. It isn't like anybody's going to see what I have going on beneath my clothes; I have, after all, been single my whole life. The only colours left are a pastel pink or blue, and I mull over each of them, then decide that the blue matches my eyes better and add it to the small pile I have slung over my arm. Maho-chan and I check out, the cashier gushing over our choices (which seems kind of strange to me; why are you so awed about what's going over my boobs?), and exit the store with small bags hanging from our wrists.

"I wish I had time to change," she says, fingering the magenta kerchief on her uniform. I nod in agreement.

"'Hey, everyone'," I start to say in a mockingly deep voice. "'Students from Hinode Academy walking out of a skimpy lingerie store! Ooh, wonder what they bought today!'" Maho-chan snorts derisively, shaking her head, and we begin to move to the east side of the shopping center, where the swimsuit store is located.

"They would say that," she muttered, flipping her unruly curls away from her face. "Kids these days are so uptight."

"We're still kids ourselves, Maho-chan."

"Does it even matter? I'm referring to our age group, naturally. You see a girl shopping for bras and suddenly she's a floozy? Like, excuse me, I don't think you want to see my saggy boobs flopping everywhere."

I curl my lip at the vivid description. "Okay, that's enough of that. I know  _I_  don't want to see that, so let's just use me as the general consensus." She elbows me harshly in the side, earning a burst of laughter. "Have you beat Fire Emblem yet?"

She whirls to face me immediately, the mascara coating her eyelashes making her eyes seem even bigger and more unearthly, as is the intended purpose. "Naturally. How about you?"

I heave a sigh, digging in my purse to pull out my phone and check the time. "I'm still on Chapter Fourteen." As she opens her mouth into an outrageously large pink circle, I cut her off with the frantic waving of my hands. "You don't get it! I'm just trying to get all the future kids and make them OP by grinding for days on end. I'm basically invincible at this point." I look away from her, at the beige tile of the shopping center stained with dirty shoeprints, and grumble, "I'll get there someday."

She shakes her head at me in disappointment. "You're never gonna get to play Fates."

"Hey, I'm just an obsessive completionist, you know? I'd like to see you try and beat my team." I stick my nose up in the air, and Maho-chan warns me not to bump into anything – which almost happens, and I'm saved from crashing into an innocent bystander by her manicured nails digging into my arm and ripping me out of the way. When the victim is a safe distance away, we burst into chuckles that follow us into the bathing suit shop.

As I scan through varieties of one-pieces and bikinis, my mind begins to wander again to my father's proposal. I hadn't thought he had it in him to date again after my mother, let alone get married. He had such an infatuated gleam in his eyes, love practically dripping off his every word when he described her to me. Even though I had never experienced it myself, it's clear to see that whoever Miwa Asahina is, my father wholeheartedly loves her. I'm hurt he kept this from me for the longest time, only telling me when he was about to officially seal the deal. The way he'd phrased it made it sound like he won't get married to her if I'm opposed to it. However, I could never do that to him; what kind of demon would I be if I did? He's so happy right now, with his job and his family, that I can't even fathom stealing it all away just because I can't stand the thought of him with someone besides my mother, whom I'd never known. No, I'm not opposed to the marriage at all. It's just strange; it's like he became another person in the time he's known her, one that's slowly drifting away from me. I grip the smooth nylon of the bikini in my hand, my knuckles turning white against its deep navy colour. Is that all I'm afraid of? Having my father taken away from me?

I mull it over for a moment, then decide that's impossible. My father would never fall in love with a woman who would willingly steal his attention away from his daughter; he's far too kind and smart for that. My worries are completely groundless, I know, but a whole new family? I figure I have a right to be anxious. What if she doesn't like me? What if none of her children do?

"Is that the one you're getting?" Maho-chan blessedly interrupts my reverie. I look to her, to the few swimsuits dangling by their hangers from their fingers, and smile.

"No, I'm still looking." I paw through a few more choices, the monotony of the hangers scraping against the rails calming me slightly – and boring me. I can only go shopping for so long before I just completely lose interest, unless I'm shopping for books and games. I find a plain white number that won't stand out at all against the pallor of my skin, but I like the simplicity of it, then we're off to another store to find a dress.

I haven't told Maho-chan about my father yet. She's the type that loves any sort of gossip, no matter how small it may be, yet she never goes around spreading it – she merely likes being in the know. Even though we'd only met at the beginning of high school, she knows some of my deepest secrets – about how I think Juli talks to me and the like, because my secrets are few and far between. It's only natural that I tell her about this. I decide that the timing is right when I'm in a dressing room of a small clothing store, and she's in the stall beside me. I scan myself in the mirror, hesitating since I haven't come to terms with the subject myself yet, and call to her. "Maho-chan?"

"Yeees, Hina?" She sings her nickname for me, derived from the first part of my last name. I can hear her humming a song from the other side, and I lean my back against the mirror, staring at the burnt orange wall of the stall. An ad is plastered to it of a smiling woman with brilliant teeth and a young male model with windblown light brown hair, staring at me as if to dredge the words out of me.

I wait a few moments before continuing, not because I'm nervous, but because saying it out loud feels like it will become that much more real. "So my dad came home yesterday…"

"Oh, yeah, you told me about that! Did you have a nice dinner?" She knows how much simply eating a meal with him means to me, and I find it endearing that she bothers to ask. My heart clenches as I fiddle with the hem of the dress trimmed with doily fabric.

"It was great. We had a really nice time. But yesterday morning… he told me something. Something important."

She can tell from the tone of my voice that I'm being uncharacteristically downcast. She pokes her fluffy head under the stall, not checking to see if I'm fully clothed, and narrows her eyes. "What is it? Is he leaving again, like, tomorrow? Because you have to know that it's okay for you to say-"

"No, no, it's not that." I slide down the wall onto the hard brown linoleum, and she compliments how the dress looks on me before I thank her and continue. "He told me that he met somebody."

Her doe-eyes widened. "Like, a woman?"

I nod gravely. "Yes, a woman. But that's not a problem – of course it's not. It's just that… he kind of sprung something on me that I wasn't expecting." She stares attentively, waiting for me to continue, and I wrap my arms around my knees to hug them to my chest. "They're getting married."

" _What_?!" She demands, and she moves so quickly she slams the side of her neck against the divide of the stalls. I quickly move to check if she's alright and she just waves me away, her thin brows forming a deep line between them. "This seems kind of sudden, don't you think?"

"Well, sure, but apparently they've been together for a while – he just didn't know how to tell me." We remain like that as we talk, me sitting cross-legged on the floor, her poking her head out from the divide and resting her chin on crossed arms. Her variation of expression astounds me as I continue. "He met her when he was in China – that was a year or so ago. Maybe longer, I dunno. I think that if I oppose it, he won't go through with it, but it's not like I don't want him to get married…"

She nods in understanding. "It's just been you two this whole time."

"And Juli," I cut in.

"Yes, and the squirrel. I thought you'd been acting funny today; you rarely ever want to go clothes shopping. Have you even met this woman?"

I shake my head, tendrils of hair coming loose from my low bun. "No, not yet. That's why I'm looking for a dress – we're meeting at a restaurant on Friday, and I want to… make a good impression. She is the woman my dad loves, after all. Even if this is a bit sudden to me, and it makes me a tad bit uncomfortable, I should try my best to love her, too."

Her smile is warm and full of fondness, her eyebrows finally returned to their original resting place, gracefully crawling down from her bronzed forehead. "That's a good way of looking at things. I know  _I'd_ be weirded out if my mom got remarried." She shudders, the tops of her shoulders brushing the stall. "Especially if the dude had kids. Just one brother is enough for me."

"Oh, that reminds me," I say, plopping my fist into my palm. "Dad mentioned that she has kids. So when they get married…"

"You'll have step-siblings," Maho-chan whistles, drumming her nails on the ground. "Wow. This is a big deal."

"Do you think this dress is good enough?" I ask her, and she nods eagerly. I actually love it, but I'm not the type to gush; it was a deep blue, practically navy, with mid-sleeves and a white Peter Pan collar. It's on sale, too, which helps since any money I don't spend after a few days of having my paycheck goes into my university fund. "I'm nervous about meeting her. What if she doesn't like me?"

"Nobody doesn't like you," she scoffs, and I roll my eyes. "Rintaro-san is such a chill person, and you're just like him. If she likes him, she'll definitely like you."

My eyes start to burn a little from emotion, and I pat her head, her unruly hair sticking up every place I touch it. "Thank you, Maho-chan. You're such a doll."

Her teeth flash in her wide grin, perfected after having braces all through middle school. "I know. Now let's check out and get some food." She throws her arms at their full length on the floor beside me, then slowly slides back under the stall as if she'd being dragged. "I have to tell you about the episode of  _Bubblegum_  I watched last night."

My head jerks up with the dress wrapped around it, and I rapidly knock on her stall in a flash of panic and heartache while I wear it like a sheet ghost. "Don't talk to me about that show!"

When we mosey on down to the food court to grab some McDonald's and exchange heated opinions about that show, I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder after we've been eating for a few minutes. I glance up with a smile without even knowing who it is, and see our classmate standing there with a megawatt grin on his face. "Sasakura-kun! Fancy seeing you here."

"Hey, Hinata-san," he says cheerfully, all smiles and golden skin. "Imai," he adds quickly, and her eye twitches.

"Thanks for the afterthought, Sasakura." I snort in laughter at that, since those two aren't exactly famous for getting along. We all met in high school when we were in the same class in our first year, and had become something of a gang for these past two years. These two would probably rip each other's throats out if someone isn't there to mediate, but I dream of a day when they can sit in a room together and be at least remotely civil.

"You weren't an afterthought! Just a bit of… an extra."

"That's not better in the slightest," she sighs in aggravation, making me giggle again. "Was there something in particular you wanted?"

He looks a bit affronted. "I just saw you two over here and came to say hi! Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Of course not," I say before Maho-chan can retort with something less than nice. "It's nice to see you outside of school. You look good in regular clothes," I tack on, gesturing to his fitted jeans and vee-neck shortsleeve. It is a real change from our uniform I see him in all the time, with black linen pants and a matching blazer with red lining.

"It is a problem if you're at the mall all by yourself like a creep," Maho-chan cuts in with narrowed eyes, and I shoot her a look.

"I'm not here by myself, smartass," he says to her pointedly, then gestures at the food court around us. "I'm here with-" He cuts himself off, pausing to think, then sighs and says, "With a friend."

Maho-chan's eyebrows skyrocket. "Someone we know?"

"Yes," he hedges, then shrugs. "But he's too shy to say hi."

"Oh please," she scoffs, kicking back in her chair to rock on the back two legs. "We're the least intimidating people ever."

"Hinata-san, sure, but with that massive forehead of yours…"

Suddenly she's standing, her eyes almost glowing as she tries to get in his face, intercepted by me. "What did you just say, punk?"

"Come on, now, we're all friends here," I tell them firmly, giving them both a murderous look. "Quit making a scene, all right? It looks like you two are about to start brawling."

"Hinata-san's right," Sasakura-kun says with another sigh, and Maho-chan begrudgingly takes her seat again. "So, what are you two hanging at the mall for? Looking for anything in particular?"

"I'm meeting my dad's new fiancée on Friday," I say, thinking that the more often I say the words, the more I'll get used to them. "I wanted to get some new clothes, something way nicer than what I normally wear to make a good impression."

He looks surprised, then pulls up a vacant chair besides me, the legs scraping obnoxiously against the ground. Maho-chan shoots him a disbelieving look, but he silences her by saying, "That must be rough, to get a new mom. If you ever need to talk to someone, about anything, I'll be here, okay?" He cops it off with a reassuring hand on my shoulder. His deep brown eyes look so honest and have a slight sheen over them, as if he's actually expressing his dearest sympathies, which I can't help but laugh at how nice he's being.

"Of course," I tell him, patting his hand. "That's very nice of you to say. Don't regret it if I take you up on your offer."

"I won't!" He says vehemently, and I just laugh again. "You're laughing in the face of my sincerity! Give me a little more credit."

"Sorry, sorry," I giggle, then my phone goes off to notify me of an alarm. I quickly glance at it and see the time, 5:05, and place it back in my purse before shoving the rest of my food down my mouth. Sasakura-kun looks downright stunned while Maho-chan just smirks in satisfaction, and I say, "I gotta be home soon to get dinner started. You coming, Maho-chan?"

"Of course," she responds, and she takes our trays to the garbage disposal to dump the rest of the packaging and lingering fries out.

"I'll see you at school tomorrow, Sasakura-kun," I say with a small wave, lugging Maho-chan's three bags in one hand and mine in the other. His smile is still a bit startled as he says the same thing in response, and I skip away to join Maho-chan, who is waiting by the exit.

"Sometimes, you can be as dense as molasses, Hina," she sighs, and I blink innocently at her.

"What do you mean? Did I forget something?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm sure you'll figure it out someday." She slings an arm around my shoulder, and we don't even falter in step, so used to the gesture that we're completely coordinated to it by now. "I'm real excited to eat your cooking, Hina."

I smirk in amusement. "Did we not just eat ten chicken nuggets each and French fries with frappucinos?"

She looks me dead in the eye and whispers, "It doesn't matter," which I lose my mind at, and I'm still laughing by the time we exit the mall and are walking down the crowded sun-dyed streets to get home.

We chat about completely asinine things as we take our time strolling down the residential streets, the neighbourhood quiet save for the rustling of newly budded leaves on their branches. The streets and sidewalks have a slightly orange hue from the sunset, and when we're in a less crowded place, Maho-chan and I get far more loud and excited about things like video games and television programs we've been watching together lately. There is some talk of schoolwork, not too much since it's something neither of us like to dwell on, then we're standing in front of one of the newer buildings in the neighbourhood which boasts modern architecture and a slanted roof meant to be a slide for owls – or at least that's what I'd stated when I was about six. We have a large tree in the front yard which always gives us a major dose of sakura petals on the walkway when that time rolls around, the same one I always climbed when I was younger. One of the branches is slightly crooked and shorter than the rest with its end torn off, showing where I'd broken the branch and fallen off, and I have the long jagged scar down my leg from scraping it on the next branch down to prove it. Other than that there isn't a whole lot of flora to speak of, since every attempt I'd made at gardening had failed miserably, and when Dad had tried to grow cherry tomatoes way back when the neighbourhood squirrels ravaged them with a hunger meant for the undead – with help from Juli, of course.

We climb the porch steps easily, and I twist my key in the lock until the white windowed door pops open with only a slight creak, and we scrape our feet on the entry mat before stepping into slippers. I get started on dinner after I dump our stuff into my room to keep it out of the way, and she helps out with chopping vegetables and preparing the tea – something I don't even ask her to do. Maho-chan is just the kind of person that, even if she is brutally honest and has no problem with speaking her mind, will do anything to help those she cares about, even if it's the smallest things. I smile as I feel her bustling beside me, her tonedeaf voice screeching along to the music we have playing, and my heart warms with just her presence beside me. If anything besides Juli gets me through the lonely months Dad's gone, it's definitely her. She takes Juli into her arms and dances with him, something he responds to with some not-so-nice words he assuredly got from me raging at video games, and I know that, without a doubt, I could never be uncomfortable around her. She's a part of my family, even if we aren't blood-related, and I wonder if it will be like this with Miwa-san's kids whenever I see them. My heart clenches at the thought. Oh boy.

Dad and Maho-chan act like old friends whenever they see each other, which is obviously not often. He adores her, and the time we merrily spend together, so that I'm not completely by myself when he's working. It's the same way when he comes home that night, and we all eat dinner together before he drives her home, since he didn't want her walking by herself when it got dark outside. We don't talk about Friday's rapid approach during the ride home, Juli resting in my lap and worriedly looking between us. We're keeping everything about Miwa-san and her family under wraps until then, until everything is cemented and much more real. But I want to know about them. I wish I can say something to him, ask him to tell me more, but I don't want to risk this fragile peace we've established in keeping them out of the conversation. He knows I'm slightly off-put about the idea of him remarrying, and I know that he's feeling guilty about not saying anything about it. It only takes a few more moments before I can't take it anymore; he's my father, and I can't stand awkward silences, especially when this involves the both of us. I have a right to know, and he has the right to tell me.

"Have you ever met Miwa-san's kids before?" I begin, and he seems slightly startled by the topic. I'm usually quiet and respectful around him, as I don't want to disturb him when he's eating or working, but I say what's on my mind. With this monumental change coming into our lives, we're going to have to start changing, as well.

He nods in confirmation. "I've met her two eldest sons. They're both very capable men, and run the household when she's not around. She often works away from home, you know," he adds, reminding me of how he said they met.

"How exactly did you two meet in China?" I ask, and he smiles endearingly at the memory. My chest clenches at seeing him so happy, and I find myself smiling before he even responds.

"They called me to a broadcasting station for an interview while I was in the country. When I arrived, she happened to be having one at the same time, as she's a fashion designer who's been gaining more worldwide attention lately."

My mouth opens into a startled 'O'. "That's amazing."

His smile quirks in agreement. "We met backstage, and introduced ourselves, and I know it sounds cheesy, but… We just looked into each other's eyes, and the rest was history." He actually blushes a bit, the tops of his cheeks turning a rust colour. I'm awed, full of happiness for him, yet weirded out at the same time. It's like he's a schoolboy again.

"You're right, that is cheesy," I tell him, and he barks out an embarrassed laugh. "I'm glad you met though." This shocks him into silence, and he seems to be brooding a bit as we drive home, the streetlights flashing into the car at even intervals. We keep the radio off, and his face eclipsed in darkness worries me a bit; maybe I should have kept my mouth shut.

Then his smile is almost as blinding as the sun as he says, "So am I, Vivi. You're going to love her, I just know it."


	3. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi prepares to meet her father's fiancee - the woman who's to become her step-mother - and learns something shocking about her new family.

**Chapter Three**

_**Family** _

I reach my hand out, pleadingly and desperately, but Dad playfully slaps it away. "You  _do not_ need any more water, Vivi," he tells me firmly, but the intimidating effect is lost with that amused grin on his face.

"I can't help it," I hiss, tugging my collar away from my neck to double-check that I'm not sweating so much that I'm stinking up the surrounding area – I can't help but notice that quite a few other patrons surrounding us had left soon after we sat down at the table. "My throat just keeps getting dry. Is this a sign of nervosity?"

His smile twitches even wider, making the sharp outline of his freshly shaven jaw seem like it could cut glass. "That isn't a word, kiddo."

"Now I'm unable to even articulate sentences. This is a bad sign." I brace my hands on the table in a crouching position and lean forward conspiratorially. "I'm losing my mind."

"You think you can talk to a squirrel, Vivi."

I rear back so harshly I rock in my chair and have a quick scare that I may fall backwards. "Below the belt, Dad. You're not really helping right now."

He actually rolls his eyes at that. "You have absolutely nothing to worry about, that's all. No matter how awkward you may be, I'm nearly positive Miwa-san will love you. Actually, I'm nearly positive she'd love you even if you had an extra head or maybe even a beak."

I bear my teeth at him. "You're exaggerating." I try to shove another piece of bread in my mouth, but he slaps that away, too. My eyes glisten as I cradle the offending hand to my chest, and even add a lip quiver as I cry, " _Dad._ "

He shrugs, resting his chin into the palm of his hand propped up by his arm resting on the table. "You don't want to stuff yourself before we actually order dinner. I can foresee many a pee break already."

"I'm not stuffing myself," I grumble, a complete lie and he knows it. I hadn't stopped eating or asking for water refills since the moment we sat down. It isn't just the fact that today's the day I'm meeting Miwa-san for the first time; they just had to choose one of the fanciest restaurants in town for the venue, and I'm not good with classy places at all where they serve the food with cloth napkins and warm lemon water to dip your hands into to clean them.

Don't get me wrong, it's a nice place, and I'm very grateful to Dad for treating me today. How could I not be, in a place like this? Each table is made of the finest polished wood with a slight reddish hue, the chairs upholstered with plush fabric, floors painstakingly covered with luxurious crimson carpeting that must've made cleaning at the end of the night a bitch. Glittering crystal chandeliers with three tiers of candles hung at even intervals around the building, one of them directly above us in the back corner of the establishment, very private and with an intense ambiance. It smells not only of amazingly seasoned foods and expensive wine wafting from my father's glass, but also of some fragrant oil burning on certain receptacles plugged into the walls. The lull of muted conversations and scraping of silverware (like literal silver) filled the place with a much needed white noise that helps me to settle a little, but I'm still bouncing in my seat.

Even in my new dress and with my hair in a bun slightly fancier than usual, with plaits crowned over the top of my head and twirling into the mass of hair tied at the base of my neck, I still don't feel remotely classy enough. All I can think of is how, instead of the soothing violin streaming out from the speakers, I'd rather be listening to  _Santeria_ , which is basically my summer anthem. If I can't appreciate the music here, I don't deserve to be here. The thought makes me polish off the rest of the iced water I have in front of me, which Dad observes with a heavy sigh. The seats are too comfortable and plush; every time I bounce I feel like I go another foot in the air.

"Am I sweating too much?" I ask, hastily scraping some stray curls away from my face.

"You look just wonderful," he assures me, placing a hand over my mind – less of an attempt at comfort and more to make me stop jumping around like a butterfly bean. "Really. Settle."

To help calm myself down, I start reciting my favourite scene from  _Hamlet._  "'How now, a rat? Dead for a ducat, dead!' Hamlet proceeds to stab through the arras and kill Polonius." I look at Dad expectantly, my eyes blinking rapidly like a startled mouse.

He rolls his eyes but finishes: "'Oh, I am slain.' Polonius dies." I cough and snort at the same time, confusing me to the extent that I start laughing at myself, and my attempt at easing up a bit works just a little. Dad's smile softens, and he removes his hand from mine after a final reassuring pat. While he's distracted I start reaching for another slice of bread, ever the glutton, until I hear some muffled footsteps rushing towards our table, sounding light as an experienced woman in heels.

I snatch my hand from the basket, place it firmly in my lap, and sit up with a rod-straight back. Sweat starts to bead down my back, and I try desperately to hold onto my consciousness. I've always been sensitive to the heat, and being under the heat of the chandelier while being so nervous I felt like I was on fire is not doing me any favours. Just as I start screaming internally, a woman made in the image of the angels rounds the corner of the bar to start approaching us, a suit jacket thrown over her arm and her pressed white blouse undone a bit at the top buttons.

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" She says with a graceful, embarrassed smile, a stretch of her plump red lips that fills me with awe. I'm watching her in stunned silence; she's so graceful, each of her movements akin to a delicate dance. Her golden hair is cropped short, falling in a graceful pixie cut just under her ears, her eyes glittering like sapphires in the golden light of the chandeliers. Her makeup is immaculate, putting any efforts I make with mine to shame, her outfit professional and comfortable, with a playful red and black gingham pencil skirt, the blazer over her arm matching. Her jewelry is in shades of copper, filling me with an instant admiration for her style, then I remember that she's a fashion designer; of course she's dressed to the nines. As she comes closer to our table I get a waft of some very light and refreshing perfume, and I'm shocked at how young she looks, her face untainted by any wrinkles save for the crow's feet that crack into existence when she and my father lock eyes. She places a chaste kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark with her lipstick that she giggles at and rubs away.

Suffice to say, I'm in complete shock. She's nothing like what I expected. Then again, I didn't really expect a whole lot, since Dad did his best to keep me in the dark so I'd be surprised when I met her. Well, mission accomplished. She has to be the most adorable fifty-something year-old I've ever seen. She looks positively giddy to see us, and after she exchanges a greeting with my father, her full attention swings to me. I'm almost uncomfortable under her unrelenting stare, but it isn't filled with judgement or anything of the sort; it's more like she's just looking at me as Rintaro Hinata's daughter, and wants to see beyond that.

"You must be Vivi," she began, holding her hand out to me for a shake. I discreetly wipe mine on the skirt of my dress before holding it out to her. "A pleasure to meet you. Rin-kun's told me so much about you."

 _Rin-kun?_  I'm almost tempted to laugh, and turn to Dad with cheeks puffed out a little, a sign I'm about to crack, and he shoots me a warning look. The nickname is so cute and youthful, just like her, and everything about her, from her movements to the softness in her eyes, radiates maturity and femininity – something I desperately lack. I turn to her to notice that she's staring me down again, still holding my hand, and I eagerly want to retract it since I know I'm getting clammy again.

I have to swallow before speaking, and my voice still comes out a bit rough. "Likewise. I'm so glad to finally meet you." When she just keeps staring, enough that I start to get even more uncomfortable, I have to say something. "Um… Miwa-san?"

Now it's Dad's turn to almost laugh when Miwa-san suddenly grabs my other hand and holds both of them in a tight grip, her cheeks glowing a lovely shade of pink in joy as she smiles brilliantly and says, "As I thought, girls are just the best! I've always wanted a little girl," she tells me, cradling my hands as if they're something precious. "You're just about the cutest thing I've ever seen, Vivi-chan."

Oh  _wow._  This is not what I'd been expecting, not in the slightest. I have to swallow again before responding, my face absolutely red as the lights on a police cruiser. "Thank you very much," I say, looking up at her shyly. "You're, ah, quite beautiful yourself." Jesus that's awkward. I don't even know how to talk properly when faced with compliments.

She shocks me yet again by whipping around to face my father, keeping our hands clasped together, and leveling him with a glare. "How can you even stand being around a daughter this cute all the time? I'm so jealous!" She turns to me again, her moods shifting even quicker than a cat's, and she's all gorgeous smiles. "Well, if you're going to be joining our family, I suppose I won't have to be jealous for much longer!"

Well then. She's certainly eager about the idea of a joint family. I thought she would have had some reservations about it, herself, but this is quite obviously not the case. I've never seen a person so eager to become a family before, but her eyes are glittering as if they hold small galaxies within their crystalline depths in utter anticipation and adoration. Even in only knowing her for a few minutes, I can tell that when this woman loves, she loves with all her heart. Her kids must have grown up absolutely showered with her affection. Honestly, I feel a little envious.

"You'd think after thirteen boys, I'd finally have myself a girl, but nope! I'm glad that you're going to be my daughter, though, make no mistake about that!" She pats my hands before finally releasing them, but I'm unable to place them in my lap again for a moment, since I'm sitting in a frozen solid state.

I must have heard her wrong. She probably said three boys, since thirteen is just… over the top. I cock my head to the side curiously, and notice that Dad is currently unable to meet my eyes – be it from purposely avoiding me or because he's staring at Miwa-san with goo-goo eyes, who's to say. "Sorry, um… you said  _three_ boys?"

She shakes her head quickly, somehow even managing to make that look well put-together. "Nope, thirteen, sweetie! Did Rin-kun not tell you?"

"No, Rin-kun wanted to keep it a surprise," I grit out, my eyes wide and unblinking as my rigid smile shows all teeth. My mind is a bit – just a bit – blown. Thirteen kids. Thirteen, and yet she doesn't look a day over twenty-five? She must have the genes of the gods, for Chrissake. My mind immediately begins questioning all the technicalities of it, such as if her sons – all  _sons!_ \- come from the same father, how far apart in age they are… When Dad and Miwa-san get married, I'm going to have thirteen stepbrothers. The number just seems completely astronomical to me, and I'm desperately trying to keep my jaw from falling to the floor just thinking about it.

"Well, I bet that it is a pretty darn good surprise!" She laughs, and it's a nice one, coming straight from her diaphragm as if she hasn't the slightest care in the world how goofy it may sound. "Yes, my eldest is thirty-one, and my youngest is ten."

I can't hold it back anymore. "Holy  _shit._ "

"Language, Vivi," Dad scolds me lightheartedly, and I hold up a hand as if making a boy scout salute to not do it again.

"Oh, please, let the girl say whatever she wants. This must have come as a big shock to her, especially since you didn't say anything, you devil." Dad actually looks a bit sheepish, and strokes his chin thoughtfully in an effort to hide his smile. Miwa-san has a hand over mine again, her eyes gleaming with sincerity as she says, "I know it's a big shock to you, and call me biased as their mother, but they're all very nice boys, never caused trouble a day in their lives. I know you'll just love them when you meet."

"I'm sure I will," I respond with an easy laugh, though on the inside I'm still reeling, still expecting her to say that it's all just a joke and she actually had said three sons. But no such revelation ever comes, not even after we finish off our food, which is deeply rich and leaves my stomach completely satisfied. Dad doesn't seem the least bit surprised that even after all that bread and water, I had completely finished my side of penne with my chicken parmesan. Miwa-san, however, has her eyes bugging out of her head.

"For someone so tiny, you can sure fit a lot in your stomach!" She exclaims, almost sounding like she's delighted. One may normally find that offensive, but I appreciate her honesty, and find myself laughing with her again, as we had done when she'd told me stories of her kids and of Dad during our meal.

"I get that a lot," I respond warmly, having already attained a fondness for the woman. She isn't afraid to say what's on her mind, and is quite expressive despite her professional appearance. She uses her hands a lot when she's explaining things, no doubt a habit she'd picked up as a designer, and attaches strange lilts to her voice when she's impersonating someone. It's like she's only a few years older than me instead of decades, and we'd even played hangman while we were waiting for our food to arrive. She'd picked something that took me a lot of guesses to get, "zigzagging", using a word with letters people often guess last. She has a cleverness about her, the telltale tenderness of a loving mother, and whenever she spoke of her previous husband she used the term "late", meaning that she's a widow. Someone so cheerful and full of life had thirteen children, and had lost the man she'd loved, and yet she's willing to start all over again, merrily invite two people into her ginormous family.

My heart aches for Miwa-san, something that doesn't happen too easily to me. I'm not the type to form judgement within moments of knowing people, but something about her just screams that she's inherently good. She's the perfect other half for Dad, who is easygoing and wonderful himself, and my heart races with the image that runs through my brain, of them spending years and years together, just being happy in completing each other. As I watch them joke with each other, laughing as if they're not only engaged, but best friends, I'm filled with a strange sense of euphoria. She's the one for him. Even if this is all moving so quickly that it's giving me whiplash, it's been a while in the making for them, both of them having nursed wounded hearts and finding solace in each other. The cheesiness of it all pisses me off a little, just a little, because they're basically soulmates. Ugh, that sounds awful, even in my head.

"Was the food good, Vivi-chan?" Miwa-san asks me, leaning into her crossed arms with a wide grin on her face.

"Yes, it was amazing," I say in response, tucking stray hairs behind my ear again. "I could eat chicken like that for every day for the rest of my life and not get tired of it." I'd meant to exaggerate as an attempt at humor, but she takes me seriously, judging by the awed look on her face.

"Now you're making me wish I'd got it!" She laughs, and then gets a mischievous glint in her eyes, making them sparkle like polished jewels. "Got room for dessert?"

I brace my hands on either end of the table and lean towards her, trying to match her hyperactive pace. "You know it."

"Great!" She cheers, clapping her hands together eagerly. "What would you like, Rin-kun?"

"Whatever's fine with you girls," Dad says with his usual relaxed smile, his arm slung around the back of Miwa-san's chair. I can't help but smile when I notice that.

Just as I'm about to fill in with a suggestion, Miwa-san says, "I think I could go for the little brownie bits down here," as she points to them on the menu. Dad gets an eager look in his eyes, which I'd known would happen, since brownies are one of his favourite desserts. That's what I was about to say, and the fact that she'd said it first makes my smile grow into a grin befitting the Joker.

"Sounds good to me," I say, and to my utter astonishment, my stomach growls at the thought of the tasty treat hitting my taste buds. One day all of this excessive eating is going to catch up to me.

After we call the waiter and order the dessert, we wait around for just a few more minutes and Miwa-san asks me about how I'm doing in school. She boasts that Dad would not stop telling her about my good grades and constant presence on the honor role, which makes me get a little bashful. The only reason I work so hard in school is for him to have one less thing to worry about, but it isn't like I'm going to say that, so instead I just avoid all the nitty-gritty details and tell her about what we're doing in my classes right now with summer vacation looming in the next month. When the brownies arrive and I pop the chocolately goodness in my mouth slathered with homemade whipped cream and chocolate sauce, I figure it to be one of the best first meetings I've ever had with someone.

Suddenly Miwa-san is strangely serious after she daps the chocolate sauce away from the corners of her mouth with her napkin, staring deeply at me as I struggle to swallow down the giant piece I'd just taken, shocked by her sudden change in mood. "Vivi-chan, I have something I want to ask you. Your father wanted me to wait a bit longer before I did, so at least we could get to know each other better, but I already adore you, you see. I feel like I've known you for much longer than just a couple of hours from how often Rin-kun talks about you." She moves, as if unconsciously, to rub Dad's arm tenderly just from mentioning him, and I'm bordering on desperate to know what she has to say.

"You can ask me anything," I murmur, not bothering to wipe the chocolate sauce away. If she claims to love me, then she must, chocolate covering my mouth like a rare form of rabies and all.

"I want to know what you think of me," she says cautiously, and I nearly sag to the ground in relief. But then the questions get harder. "What you think of us getting married. I know this seems sudden to you, but I believe that this is – dare I say – meant to be. I want us to be a family." Even though I feel like I'd just gotten cheese shoved in my face, she then proceeds to shove it down my throat when she lays her warm hand over mine again, slightly calloused from working with pencils and fabrics all day. "I want you to join my family, as I wish for my sons and I to join yours. So, please… will you support us getting formally wed?"

It's undeniable that I feel a bit pressured, put on the spot by her question with the both of them looking at me so pleadingly, so clearly in love with each other. Her gaze is completely serious, leaving no room for error, and while Dad clearly doesn't want to make me feel uncomfortable, I know he can't help but look at me the same way. It's like they're two teenagers asking for their parents' blessing, and the fact that my opinion means so much to the two of them is just even more endearing. Maybe it's because the sugar's sweetened me up, or because of how pressured I feel to give an answer, but I find words spewing ungracefully from my mouth before I even have time to think about it.

"Of course," I say with a blinding smile that makes Dad's grin practically split the corners of his mouth. "Thank you for considering me in the first place. Anyone of Dad's choosing is fine with me, but I'm glad it's you, Miwa-san."  _As long as the two of you are happy._  I close my eyes briefly to collect myself, to collect the violent maelstrom of emotions currently churning within my stomach and threatening to bring my dinner back up. There's panic in there, mostly, nervousness as well, but I had to trust Dad on this, even if I don't know Miwa-san that well. This is what he wants.

Miwa-san's eyes start to glisten, and I worry over her a tear slips out from the corner of her right one without managing to draw her mascara down with it. "I'm so glad," she whispers, her voice rough. "It's just been difficult, all this time, and after I met Rin-kun…" She looks up at him, and suddenly I'm not even in the room anymore. Nobody is, to get between them and the feelings they so clearly share. "I knew there was still hope for me. For us. I'm so happy I met your father, Vivi-chan."

"And I'm glad he met you," I whisper in return as we stand and join in a brief embrace surprised to discover I mean it. Even if everything is changing, and Dad's new cologne mingles in with her slightly musky perfume, it's alright, because two lost people who have both become fundamentally important to me finally found their missing piece.

* * *

Even though it had never even crossed my mind that I'd find myself doing so, a couple weeks later I'm packing up my remaining essentials into a carry-on to head over to the Asahina family home.

This is the house where I'd grown up in, and it isn't like we're completely abandoning it; Dad's not going to sell it right away. But I couldn't help the feeling of my heart tearing slightly as I packed away each of my belongings, from my video games to disassembling my bed and sending it away with the movers. The African masks had disappeared from the walls, leaving them blank and expressionless, the smell of home cooking faded from the kitchen. Juli is not impressed, not in the slightest; from the moment he heard that I'm gaining thirteen new stepbrothers, he had not even attempted to take a chill pill, and has all but been on a rampage. He calls them 'wolves', objects to me moving there every chance he can, my explanations as to why falling on deaf ears.

Dad and Miwa-san's marriage is completely settled, the ceremony taking place this coming November. They want to have time to themselves, though they hadn't said that right to my face, and suggested that I move in with Miwa-san's sons so that I won't be completely by myself for months as they continue travelling for work. I still have yet to meet any of them, so I'm wading into completely uncharted waters here. Basically I'm moving into a house filled with strangers, utterly oblivious about what to expect. Miwa-san raves about them often, how nice they are, how responsible and caring they are, but it does little to ease my worries. I still don't know them, and I'm sleeping there tonight. Chills run down my spine, chills that hadn't stopped since the day I'd agreed to their union. I don't regret that decision, especially not with each time I see them together, smiling in utter bliss.

I heave a sigh, sitting cross-legged on my floor to pack a few straggling knick-knacks and clothes into my bag, and pause for a moment to stare at the completely empty room around me. The clothes in the closet are gone, as is my desk, entertainment unit, my bed. All of the little colours that lit up the white walls and lightwood floors are gone, leaving it a completely blank canvas for someone else to fill someday. I purse my lips, drum my fingers on the floor, my long nails ticking on them like Juli's nails as he approaches me.

"Doing alright, kiddo?" He asks me in that lilting voice of his, somewhat distorted by his buck teeth. I smile down at him as he crawls into the space in the middle of my legs to look up at me in concern.

"Just a bit… I dunno, wistful?" I settle for, twisting a hair around my finger. I haven't gotten around to putting it up today, and would definitely have to before I step into the unforgiving heat outside. The bun had been annoying me when I'd gotten home from school after the half-day, and I'd tugged it out as I resumed packing. The silvery waves brush the floor as I lean back onto my arms to stare at the ceiling, at the glow-in-the-dark stars I'd stuck up there when I was younger and had pretended they could talk to me so I didn't feel as lonely when I slept. "This is the only home I've never known. Even if I'm moving in with… family, it's hard to leave it."

"I completely agree," he says, feigning innocence by pressing a paw to his chest with his mouth hanging open, revealing his teeth filed down by nuts and chewing on wood. "Which is why you shouldn't do it. This can't end well, I just know it." He jabs a claw into the meat of my thigh, making me giggle. "I'm psychic, Chii, I swear. You should not be moving in with those boys."

"We don't even know them," I tell him after giving him a little push on the head with my finger. "Dad used to always say that strangers are just the friends we haven't met yet, before the world became so untrustworthy. It's a new adventure that we should be willing to give a chance, don't you think?" He can see right through the smile I plant on my face, into the worries I cram into the corners of my heart for no one to see.

"But are you happy?" He asks me, eyes staring straight through me in that strange animal way of theirs.

"Sure I am," I grunt as I move into a standing position and scoop the bag onto my shoulder by its strap. "We're getting a new family, Juli. I'll never have to be alone in a house again." It's a joke, but it makes his tail puff right out in panic, and I pull a walnut from my purse to have him calm down. "Family." My smile this time is genuine, remaining even as I drag my feet through the near-empty living room, towards the entryway to leave this place behind. "It's got a nice ring to it. I'm nervous, but it's like an excited nervous, you know?"

He heaves a strangely human sigh. "Sometimes I think you're just too good for Rintarou. Well, rest assured that I am not leaving your side the whole time we're there. I will protect you with all my being!" He proclaims, standing on my shoulder on his hand legs and pumping himself in the chest.

I laugh cheerily as I whip my hair into a quick bun, letting the remaining cool air of the vacant house breeze across my neck and down the collar of my uniform. I shiver, and wonder if it's from the temperature or something else. ''Are you ready, bucky?"

"Don't call me that ever again," he grumbles, settling into a more comfortable position – meaning half-on and half-off my shoulder. "You know I'm sensitive about my teeth."

"Of course." I'm muttering to myself as I pull the door open after a moment's hesitation, the warm end-of-May air hitting me like a brick wall. I turn to close and lock the door behind me, my heart thudding painfully with the sound of the key turning in the lock. My hands are sweating, and I distract myself by saying, "How could I forget about the squirrel's issue with his  _completely natural_  buck teeth?"

"Shut it, Chii, and just focus on not getting lost," he muttered after a swift shop to my neck, and I rummage in my carry-on for the map I'd pulled up on the trusty ol' search engine to help find my way there. It was about a twenty to thirty minute walk, one undoubtedly full of second-guessing and minor heart attacks.

I brush all that aside, linger in the entryway of the house for a bit longer as I pull my phone out of my bag, the screen hot from remaining under piles of clothes in the scorching sun. I slide the red headphones on over my head, covering my ears and making them overheat slightly. It doesn't bother me that much, not nearly as much as what I'm about to do. After inhaling a slow, shaky breath, I scroll down on my playlist until I hit  _The Good Life_  and crank it as high as it can go, then I take the first step towards my destination – my new home.


	4. Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi travels to the her new home and encounters a few strange characters along the way.

**Chapter Four**

**_Journey_ **

It doesn't take me long to realize how grave a mistake I had made in thinking that I could make it to my new home by walking. Turns out I had greatly underestimated the time it would take to get there, and also how hot it is today – enough that my sensitivity to the heat begins to show itself almost immediately, with sweat beading across the top of my hairline, my face blotchy and red, and a slick sheen all over my body. The only solution I can think of is to just take the train the rest of the way, otherwise it would be a fifty-minute walk, and I'm on the verge of collapse only after ten. I didn't live too far from the station in the house Dad and I shared, so I swiftly alter my course, greedily gulping down the ice water I had thrown into my carry-on for such an event.

"Chii, don't push yourself," Juli scolds from his perch on my shoulder. "Take a break if you need to. The last thing you need right now is to collapse in the middle of the street…"

"It won't come to that," I promise him. "Besides, the train is basically only five more minutes away, then it will be smooth sailing once I'm sitting down."

He's silent for a few more of my deafening heartbeats, and then pipes up: "Do you think it's because you're having a panic attack?"

I nearly spit out my water. "What?! Of course not. What's there to panic about?"

If squirrels could shrug, he most definitely would have. "This whole situation. A new family, a new house, being surrounded by thirteen ravenous  _wolves_ …"

"Oh, Juli," I sigh. "You seem to keep forgetting that these people are my  _brothers_  now. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about; Miwa-san has every last faith in them, and I respect that." In truth, Juli has always could read me better than anyone else; that's why he's so insistent that I rethink this decision to move in with thirteen strangers. He can tell I'm hesitating, that I'm so nervous my legs are shaking on my way to the train station – and not just from the heat. I keep reassuring myself that everything will be fine, but I had always been nervous around new people; I find it hard to make friends, since I do have a few… quirks.

I shake my head, silvery hairs flying loose from my bun. It won't bring anything positive to the situation if all I do is think negatively about it. I slide the water bottle back into my bag as we approach the train station, the small structure sheltering me from the heat until it arrived. I'm immensely relieved to be out of the sun, and take a seat on one of the benches beside other kids my age, that go to my school judging from the uniform. Juli slips into the bag and hands me my wallet with my pass in it, and I send him down a silent thank you with a smile.

The train is coming; I hear it rattling against the tracks in the distance, but I still take a brief moment to myself. I lean my head back and allow a faint breeze to slip down the back of my shirt, cooling the sweat and easing some of the pain. The students beside me make a noise that sounds remotely startled when they see the back of my neck, but since I don't particularly mind what they see I don't move until the monstrous machine chugs to a stop in front of us. A stream of people exits and enters the sliding doors, schools of fish passing each other in the wide sea, and I'm lucky enough to get a spot by the window.

"The sun's so pretty when I feel like it's not trying to murder me," I whisper conspiratorially down to Juli.

"It is a nice day," he agrees. "A fine day for a battle, if I do say so myself."

I roll my eyes at that, but a small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. Him being paranoid was just another way to show that he cared about me, the way he had since I was a little girl. Though I am perfectly capable of defending myself, the thought still warms my heart; there was a time when I was small and my father was away, when I felt particularly weak and like anything in the world could hurt me, but I don't feel that way anymore. After what happened eleven years ago, I made it certain that I would never be defenseless again.

The scenery is calm and serene from the height and distance the train is at, not permitting view of any people in the streets. The sunlight glitters against the glass of the skyscrapers, the stations, the arts buildings. It looks like the whitecaps of waves surging towards the train; with each chug it takes down the track the light changes and the crest comes closer. My heart lifts at the sight – I love sparkly things, even the nonsensical ones like water and snow in the sunlight. I'd never been to Kichijoji before, never ventured to that area of Tokyo, and had no idea what to expect aside from what everyone else said about it. If there was one thing I want to see after moving to that area, it's definitely the park; I have to make some time to wander around when I get there.

I spend the rest of the brief ride with my headphones in, and Juli relaxing in my bag, comforted by the smell of home that lingers in it. Except it's not home anymore; a new place is going to be, and that's perfectly fine. An odd thought strikes me: what will that place smell like? Will it be different than the scent of a house with only two people in it, and one who wasn't there half the time? An irrational question to most, but it makes perfect sense to me, and I'm stuck pondering over it until the train squeals to a stop and I get off to peruse the streets and try to find the place I'm looking for.

My music isn't blaring like it usually is, as I have to listen to Juli correct my path or make me switch my direction. The Killers are going off in my ears, and I have to physically restrain myself from singing along in my broken English, but I think the bass is giving me palpitations. Just as Juli corrects the turn I'm about to make from left to right, I swear I hear wailing in the distance, but decide that it could just be my headphones acting up again and dismiss it as nothing. I fiddle with the end of the wire closest to the plug, distracted by the fizzles, pops, and the music switching from both ears to one, and it's when that is happening that I finally hear it: "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

Too late I whirl around to see what exactly is going on, then feel a harsh impact slam into the lower half of my body, sending me sprawling on the ground and Juli flying from my shoulder. Something falls on top of half of me, something hard and metal tangled with my legs, and all I hear and feel is groaning coming from the body that had collapsed on me. Once I recognize that it was indeed a person that had come crashing at me, I immediately bolt upright and examine the scene around me to discover that it was a kid, one that couldn't be older than ten.

"Are you okay?" I demanded, carefully checking his body for any serious injuries. "Tell me if anything hurts. Does your head feel okay? How many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm okay," he murmurs dazedly, his head flopping from side to side, leaving his pale pink bob to swish around his face. "Just a little dizzy. How about you, Onee-chan? I'm sorry I crashed into you…"

I shake my head, my shoulders sagging with relief that he hadn't been hurt. The hard piece of metal trapping my legs to the ground was a bright red bicycle, the back wheel still spinning menacingly from the motion, and I gently pry it off of my legs, being careful not to accidentally wreck it. Just as I moved a little, the boy gasped and his eyebrows creased with concern. "Onee-chan, you're hurt!"

"It's just a scratch," I tell him with a smile. "Nothing to worry about. Now, are you all by yourself? Your parents must be worried about you, especially if they heard you yell."

He shakes his head, and the fierce look in his soft brown eyes, so much more mature than he otherwise looked, almost made me laugh. I'd never seen a kid look so determined about something. "I'm here with Ma-kun! I'm sure he can make your knee feel better!"

"Ma-kun?" I repeat in confusion, wondering if it's his stepdad or something since he used his first name, and the sound of footsteps behind me made us both look back to see a man jogging lightly towards us.

"Wataru! This is why I told you to be careful," he scolds the child, who looks genuinely sheepish and a bit upset. "I'm so sorry about that," he says as he kneels down beside me, his knees cracking when he bends his legs like my father's did sometimes. "How bad does it hurt?"

Since I don't want there to be any hard feelings, especially not with a poor kid who is just as much the victim as I am, I wave my hands in front of me in dismissal. "Oh, not at all! I barely even feel it. And it's perfectly alright; it was just an accident."

"Ma-kun is a doctor!" The child tells me, both with pride and stubbornness. "So you should let him take a look at you!"

"I'm just a paediatrician," he elaborates for me with a modest shrug of his shoulders. "But you really should let me take a look; it could get infected if you leave it."

I hesitate, even though Juli has recovered from the scuffle as well and is urging me to let him so that it won't get any worse. But I seriously believe it's not a big deal, and I don't want to trouble them anymore. Besides, 'Ma-kun' was staring at me with such intensity in his eyes much like those of his companion, a deep brown that was a bit concealed by his fluffy cocoa bangs dusting his brows. It's making me incredibly unsettled, and while his voice is deep and soothing, typical of a doctor for children I suppose, it still has a tone of urgency that almost makes me feel like I'm being scolded. Begrudgingly and with a slight heating of my cheeks, I lift up my leg to proffer to him to allow him to examine my knee.

It does look intimidating from afar, an angry path of red and torn skin with bits of gravel and dirt stuck in it, and the child – Wataru, I heard the man call him – looks close to anxious tears. I don't want him to start crying or feel any worse than he surely does despite this all just being one big kerfuffle, so I smile at him as widely as I can, showing that it doesn't hurt at all. He grins back at me, his wide mouth stretching into an adorable genuine grin, but it wavers when I flinch a little as 'Ma-kun's' hand lightly touches my leg, his fingers cold despite the heat. I'm tempted to laugh; of course his hands are cold. Despite that he's still dressed pretty heavily considering the weather, with a knit sweater over a cardigan and button-down with slacks. Jesus. And I had thought I was dying out here. But he doesn't seem to be sweating, but is rather staring at my minor injury with unwavering concentration that makes me unable to look at him any longer.

"Well, good news, miss," he says as he summons up a smile, and I have to cough to try not to giggle at his referral. "I think you're going to live. We just have to get it cleaned up a little is all." Naturally he has the materials on him, using a soft handkerchief and a bottle of water to gently scrape the dirt and grime out of the wound. As a finishing touch he tops it all off with a bandage covered with cartoon bunnies in pastel colours and a smile that matched the sun beaming down on the earth. "All better! Is there anything else that hurts?"

"No!" I say quickly, both because it's true and because I don't want to take up any more of their time. "No, this is much more than enough. Thank you so much."

"It's no trouble at all," he says gently, proffering his hand. I stare at it like some google-eyed amphibian for a few seconds, wondering what he wants to do, until I realize he's trying to help me up. Embarrassed, I take it and am struck by the ease with which he pulls all of my weight up for me – I didn't have to compensate at all. "What do you say, Wataru?"

The child runs up to his side and the man places a hand on his head comfortingly, even though he was still smiling at me; it was like a gesture he did without thinking, so natural and automatic. "I'm sorry, onee-chan." He bowed respectfully, his fluffy hair covering his face, and I'm taken aback by how polite and adorable he is. What a good kid.

"I'm just glad you're alright," I tell him honestly, retrieving his bike off of the ground and adjusting it to face him. "And that your bike is unhurt! Besides, it is my fault, as well – I should have been paying more attention."

"No, no, it really isn't! I'll be more careful from now on!" He beams at me, a wide toothy grin that's slightly crooked like his companion's in the corners of his mouth. "I know! I'll give you something special to say I'm sorry!" He rummages in his pocket for a moment, and I crouch down to his eye-level as his hand emerges in a closed fist. Curious and touched by his sincerity, so genuine for someone so young, I extend my hand and he drops a wrapped candy in it, the image on it boasting a strawberry. "Some of my favourite candy!"

I want to give it back to him, hesitant to take something he must love so much, but Ma-kun gently pats his head as the young one goes to wrap his arms around his neck. "That was very good of you, Wataru."

Wataru giggles in response. "Thank you! Look, I made onee-chan smile!"

This is getting a bit awkward for me to keep sticking around – not to mention they, as in my new brothers, were expecting me at the house. So I widen my grin and stand up to my full height, taller than Wataru by a fair amount yet significantly shorter than Ma-kun, and give a cheerful wave. "Thank you so much for your help – and the candy – and sorry again about the accident. Have a good day, guys."

"You as well." Ma-kun's smile is gentle and completely at ease as he takes Wataru by the hand and the handlebars of the bike in his free one.

"Bye bye, onee-chan!" Wataru calls to me from a distance, his wave energetic and enthusiastic. I smile at him again before ripping out my headphones and stuffing them in my pocket, wary of another incident.

"That was odd," Juli grunts from my shoulder, then he looks to the candy in my hand. "Ooh, strawberry is one of my favourites!"

"You can have it," I say, holding it up to him on my shoulder after unwrapping it. Naturally candy and the like is massively unhealthy for animals, especially the smaller ones, but not once had he gotten sick after eating something like that even without my permission, as he often did when I was young. That isn't to say that I believed it can never happen, so if he wants to eat anything like that, I try to keep it at a minimum. Juli is a perfectly healthy weight for a squirrel, a whopping four-hundred and some grams, so I figure a little bit of sweets once in a while won't kill him.

I throw back my shoulders to crack my back, aching a bit from the tumble. My hair had become even more loose, so I readjust it as I keep walking, desperate to keep it away from my neck. No doubt was it going to wind up burned this year, with even more freckles than I already have. I find myself envious of the young boy I'd literally crashed into and his clear, youthful complexion and cream-coloured skin. He and Ma-kun have that as a shared trait, and I know for certain that they must be related somehow, even if they did seem far apart in age. The pair of them were adorable, in different ways of course, and I find myself mysteriously flushed – and not from the heat. There's something about mature guys, ones that seem like they can handle themselves, that appeals to me. I appreciate people who don't need to have someone to rely on all the time, even if I don't mind mothering people despite how they may think it annoying. It was nice to be taken care of.

I glance down at my knees in motion as I walk, spot the colourful latex bandage, and smile. It'd be nice if I get to see them again someday.

"Don't eat all of it at once," I say to Juli, who rolls his eyes – his sass always comes in abundance.

"I know that much, Chii." He glances at the map over my shoulder, retrieved from my little accident. "I think you just keep going straight from here on. We should be there in only a few more minutes."

I let out a low whistle. "Taking the train really was a good idea. I'll be taking it to school from now on, so this was good practise." A frustrated breath escapes my mouth without my full intention, ruffling my bangs. "There'll be a lot more people on weekday mornings, though."

"I'm sure you'll live. It's just  _infuriating_  to know that I can't be there to protect you if you have some run-in with a lech." His growls reverberate through my shoulder, and I'm laughing quietly before I can help it. "It's not even remotely funny! You'll have enough wolves to deal with in your life in a matter of minutes."

He's exaggerating, I know, and keeping that in mind is what's helping me remain surprisingly calm as I make my way down the street. I've definitely reached a more residential area, both sides of the road framed by light cookie-cutter houses surrounded by fences or concrete barriers, and I wonder if that's what my new home looks like. I imagine that it could potentially be a bit bigger, since there are thirteen people living there and all…

Thirteen. It's still hard to wrap my head around. That's definitely going to take some getting used to.

"Is your knee really alright?" Juli asks, concern coating his high-pitched voice.

"Of course," I tell him. "It was a teeny-tiny scrape. They really didn't have to make such a big deal out of it."

"You didn't seem like you minded all that much."

A smug grin contorts my features as I shrug, earning a roll of his eyes. I have yet to run into anyone else down this street, which is pretty surprising considering the amount of houses here. Just as I'm thinking this, I see three figures in the distance, one towering over the other two. Juli makes a noise of awe. "Aren't they wearing the uniform of that super fancy high school?"

"Bright Centrair," I respond, squinting against the light of the sun. The uniforms Juli's referring to are of one of the best private schools around, though I personally don't see the difference between public and private schools. The uniforms, however, are far fancier than mine, complete with crisp white blazers with deep blue lapels, striped ties, and pressed grey plaid bottoms. Altogether they make the students look incredibly put-together and respectful, whereas multiple students at Hinode make alterations to their uniforms since the dress code is pretty loose.

As I pass the group of people, two young ladies with perfectly styled hair and elegant, minimal makeup accompanied by a very good-looking guy with hair the colour of slate, I catch snippets of their conversation. The girls' voices are bordering on pleading, teasingly, while the boy is obviously trying to remain polite while at the same time escape their clutches. They seem to be asking him to accompany them somewhere, but he politely refuses.

"I have something important to do at home," he tells them serenely, his voice deep and soothing. "Sorry. We can do it some other time?"

"Ugh," one of the girls says, drawing out the sound until it makes me mildly annoyed to even be privy to it. "You're  _always_  doing something, Iori. I guess that's a prince for you, huh?"

Her companion nods enthusiastically, and by this point I'm walking right past them. I catch the boy's eye and smile, not wanting him to think I'm rude and eavesdropping, and he returns the gesture. "That's right! Great at sports, excellent grades, not to mention good-looking…"

Their voices are fading away now, and I can't help but think that the qualities the one student had mentioned were the ones I found cropped up most often in animes and dramas to describe someone as perfect. I purse my lips, thinking the only thing I had in common with them was better-than-average grades, and decide that it doesn't really matter. I'm a strong believer in the idea that a person's actions form their character, though whether something a person does can be called 'good' or 'bad' is pretty subjective.

"It's not the situation, it's how you react to it," I mutter to myself, and while he seems against doing so, Juli nods in agreement.

"I guess that's what's keeping you so calm right now, Chi," he says, his whiskers twitching with apprehension. "Man, that was irritating to listen to. My ears are more sensitive than yours, you know. Listening to girls going crazy over a guy… ridiculous."

"I think it's pretty normal," I laugh. I rarely see him so pessimistic about one person. "I do it, too."

"Yes, but you do it  _quietly_. Mahoko on the other hand…"

"Oh, please." The spaces between the houses are widening at this point, the street leading to more private residential areas. Now I'm getting nervous; the houses are growing more glamorous and spectacular, with immaculate gardens and ultra-modern exteriors made up of chic angels and large windows. My house – old house – was made in the same image, though vastly downplayed and humbled. It set me on edge to be in a neighbourhood so extravagant and boasting of riches, since I'm hardly used to it. As that's flying through my mind, causing my legs to get a bit shaky and my body to start overheating again, Juli grabs my attention by gently touching a clawed hand to my cheek.

"I think it's the next building on your right, Chii," he tells me, yet all I can see of the house he's talking about is a tall fence made up of smooth, polished dark wood. I click my teeth together, panicked. My heart immediately kicks into overdrive, my hands sweating so much the map crumples from their touch, damp and useless. I try to take deep breaths, wanting to make a good impression and not seem like I'd just ran a marathon, but it does little to help since my throat has closed up. I take the few steps leading to the opening in the fence and see my new home towering above me, and all I can think is how out of place I already feel without having even met a single one of my new brothers.


	5. Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi finally arrives at the Asahina residence and meets most of her new brothers - one of which she may already be increasingly familiar with.

**Chapter Five**

**_Brothers_ **

The house – or mansion, more accurately – is so magnificent it boasts its own name right by the entrance: "Sunrise Residence". I'm gaping at it before I've made a single move to breach the barrier separating the street from the property, because one: it must be about five stories tall, and two: it looks more like an accumulation of wide apartments than a single house. It has that same uniquely modern exterior, with unique diamond-shaped windows on the uppermost floor spanning to the ceiling, and balconies on each of the lower rooms. The entire building is an off-white colour, each of the doors windowed to the point where they're almost all glass, leading me to believe that it must be very bright and open inside – maybe that's why it's called Sunrise? Who can say. To top it all off there seems to be some gardens encircling the top floor on the veranda, its wooden deck gleaming in the sun, and a massive tree sprouted right in the middle of the extravagant complex, surrounded by a boardwalk framed by immaculate gardens of flowers exploding in every colour. It was absolutely stunning, to say the least, and not at all what I had been expecting – though I hadn't known what to expect in the first place.

Juli sums up my entire open-mouthed examination with a fond noise and a single sentence: "Nice digs."

"You think?" I sputter, sarcasm bordering on sheer panic. My legs are shaking so much I feel like I'll topple over if I take a single step. I'd only seen buildings like this on television, or maybe admired them from a distance, but now I'm going to be living in one, with thirteen boys. This is when I begin laughing hysterically, my instinctual reaction when I feel my sense of control crumbling around me.

Thankfully Juli is here to literally slap some sense into me; his small paw packs an intimidating force against my cheek, enough to stop the villainous laughter and leave me in subdued silence. "Ring. The. Doorbell," he says, each word hissed through his teeth. "I rather that this didn't happen at all, but since you're already here we have little choice. Remember, you can always just tell Rintaro if you really hate it here."

"Right," I murmur, though I can't help but think to myself on how that was unlikely to ever happen. I tried to keep any expectations or worries about the entire situation out of my mind, so that I'm neither surprised nor let down, and this is the easiest way to accept what's happening. It's not a bad thing, I just keep having to remind myself of that. It's just different, and I can adapt. Besides, even though I'm ridden with irrational fears, like the mistakes I can potentially make in a new household or whether or not my new family will even  _like_ me, I can't help but be excited to meet them. I'm honestly curious to see what they'll be like. That thought is what makes me take the steps leading to the front entrance, a monster set of double doors with glass paneling to reveal actual  _mailboxes_  inside on top of a small stone dais.

I take a deep breath, remind myself to smile, then quickly run a hand through my impossible curls once more before scraping them back into yet another hasty bun. I realize I'm probably all sweaty and smell as such, and begin panicking all over again before Juli rolls his eyes heavenward, undoubtedly asking the gods  _why,_  before he scuttles into my purse and hands me my roll-on perfume. I dab it on quickly, the familiar scent easing my heartrate a little, then press my hand on the buzzer before I can second-guess myself.

The response is so immediate that I jump, nearly tumbling down the two short steps. "Yes?" The voice is deep, as expected from a house full of men, and seems reserved. One more deep breath, and I articulate a response.

"Um, yes. My name is Vivi Hinata, and I'm supposed to be living here starting today, with my soon-to-be step-brothers…" Even Juli looks unimpressed by that, while he's unimpressed with the whole scenario. I squeeze my eyes shut and lips together, internally cursing myself for sounding so awkward and unrehearsed despite that fact that's exactly what I am. I glance around the yard again, if it can be called that, as I await a response, observe the monstrous tree's leaves swaying in the wind and casting a shadow over the center of the boardwalk. The flowers' scent is subtle, not overwhelming, and I'm a little shaken at how clean the whole area is; no fallen leaves or petals in sight.

"Ah, that's right," the voice says, sounding distinctly more friendly and less intimidating. "One moment and I'll be right with you."

I wait until I hear the intercom buzz off before I say, "Oooh, damn," in a voice as high-pitched as I can manage. I find it helps to squeeze out some of the nervous clenching I feel in my stomach. The buzzer sounds again, unlocking the door, and just as I move to grasp one of the long silver handles it opens in front of me, and I run smack-dab into someone's chest.  _Christ._

The man – which he assuredly is, judging from the firm chest and noticeable lack of boobs – lets out a grunt of surprise, before I scramble away and tilt my head up to look at him and smile. He's at least a head taller than me, with the same timeless and collected looks of Miwa-san: light golden hair and deep blue eyes, though his are framed by sleek glasses that seem to be sliding down his long, aristocratic nose at the moment. The deep red of his shirt makes his complexion and features pop, and I'm honestly not that surprised to see that he's quite handsome; he is one of Miwa-san's sons, after all, and I wonder if every one of them inherited her good looks. His features soften into a slight smile as he examines me, his severe eyes easing up in the corners, and he asks in that same voice from the intercom: "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes, of course," I say, sounding a lot more at ease than I feel. "Sorry about that."

"Not to worry at all. My name is Ukyo, and I'm the second son of the Asahina family. A pleasure to meet you." He extends his hand for a shake, and I take it gratefully, both relieved and surprised to see someone so well-mannered. His hand is warm and a bit rough, much like my father's, and the shake is firm and welcoming – which makes me flush in happiness.

"Likewise," I say, my smile widening. I quickly race through conversation starters and whatnot, unsure of what exactly I should say in this situation, but he saves me the trouble by stepping aside and gesturing to the entrance with flourish. "Oh, thank you very much."

"No trouble at all. I'm sure this must seem all very strange for you." Ukyo-san actually seems a bit sheepish at that, and he pushes his glasses further up his nose with a deep, calming breath.

"For you as well, I imagine," I say whilst laughing a little. "I feel bad barging in on you guys like this. I'll try to help out as best as I can."

He seems relieved by this, his broad shoulders sagging a bit. "Wonderful. That'll be a great help. For starters, as you can see, mail and whatnot is received here; each resident has their own box." That seems a bit extra for one household, so he responds to my perplexed look quickly. "The bottom two floors of the mansion are rented out to boarders, mostly associates of my mother. The other three floors are for us – three and four are the rooms and offices, while the fifth is the common area where we will be dining and relaxing together and the like."

"Oh, wow," I say, taken aback by the sheer size of the building all over again. He's leading me down a simple hallway with linoleum floors, up to – what a surprise – an elevator shining cold steel in the fluorescent ceiling lights. "I guess that's to be expected with so many of you, huh."

His smile is much more relaxed now that we're inside the elevator, the space open enough that I don't feel any form of claustrophobia. The sides are made of shiny metal, reflecting warped versions of us back, and Juli is grumbling obscenities into my ear like the devil on my shoulder. "Yes, that's absolutely correct. Your room will be on the fourth floor – we've drawn up a map for you, which I'll give to you once we reach the common area. That's where you'll meet most of us."

I look up at him at my side, and find that he's watching me with kind eyes, surprising me. I'm used to people multitasking as they speak, either on their phones or looking at something else to avoid eye-contact. This straightforwardness is a little strange in this day and age, but it's not a bad thing by any means; of course I prefer that someone pays attention when I speak, which he seems determined to do.  _Oh wow._  "Most of?" I question, and he nods solemnly, though the agitated twitch of his eyebrow doesn't slip past my notice.

"Yes. Two of my – forgive me, our – brothers are at work right now, and two live by themselves, so there's only nine of us at the moment. Not that I'm complaining," he adds with a low chuckle. "Less food to make for dinner."

I hadn't even considered that, but now that I am… dear god. The amount of food they must have to make in a night, with twelve men all living in one place, must be absolutely ridiculous. Now I'm another mouth to feed, and I'm not shy about my appetite – at all. I tell myself to try and not be a pig whilst I'm living here, so that I won't create that much more work for them. I'm wringing my hands, clammy and hot, and wish I could discreetly break out my sanitizer before I meet anymore of them – I shook hands with Ukyo-san with my hands a sweaty mess  _goddammit I hadn't even thought of that._

"Are you nervous?" He asks suddenly, his voice gentle and careful.

"A little," I say, mine bordering on a whisper.

"Don't be," he tells me, very seriously – like I can help it. "I've told all of them to be on their best behaviour. And if you ever have a problem with them, know that you can come to me, okay?"

At that I nod, warmed by how considerate he's being. So this is what a big brother is meant to be like – I can't say that I mind it so far. I wonder if all the Asahina siblings are like Ukyo-san is… there's still something familiar about the name Asahina, as well, but I just can't think of it, for the life of me.

The elevator lets out a ding and the doors slide open smoothly, revealing a finely decorated loft with chic furniture in bold colours, smooth and glossy hardwood flooring running all the way through. Sunlight comes through the diamond windows, faceted like crystals, casting unique shadows on the lower level floor, where I see a large crimson sectional that can easily sit twenty – which, I suppose, is the intention. It was all open-concept, no walls to separate the formal dining area and the living room, and an island served to fence the stainless steel kitchen in. All in all I can honestly say I'm awestruck – it looks like one of those houses you find on the Sims, all put together so that they look incredibly neat while at the same time artfully cluttered. It's… charming.

"Come along," Ukyo-san implores me, gesturing to follow him down the small staircase separating the loft from the main floor. As he walks in front of me to lead the way, I discreetly slap some sanitizer on my hands, proud of myself for being so sly. His steps are surprising light as he moves briskly down the stairs, mine like the stampeding of bulls in comparison. The railing is cool under my hand, made of silvery metal, and it's a great relief not to hear my hand squeaking all the way down it. Looking in the living room now I see a large entertainment unit with a very humbling flat screen television, shelves lining either side of it with a few framed photographs, video games listed what looks to be alphabetically, and a shelf dedicated to video game consoles that makes me begin having palpitations again.

"Masaomi-niisan, Wataru, I'd like you two to meet - " Ukyo-san begins, but I'm stricken by the names he calls out in the direction of the dining room, and he's cut off by a high voice squealing: "Onee-chan?!"

To my utter disbelief, it's the older man and young boy who I'd crashed into from earlier. Wataru looks over the moon to see me again, his smile wide and gleeful, while Ma-kun – whose name I suppose is actually Masaomi-san – looks equally as surprised but jolly. "Hello again! Thank you for earlier today."

"Oh no, no," I say, trying not to hiss at Juli to keep his comments to himself (which rhymed with I shan't ducking conceive this). "The pleasure's all mine! What a weird coincidence, huh?" I'm about to start rambling, I can tell, but Ukyo-san saves me from the humiliation by looking curiously at Masaomi-san.

"You know each other already?" He asks, brows furrowed.

Masaomi-san shrugs. "We ran into each other earlier – I guess she was on her way here. Nice to meet you again, I'm the eldest son, Masaomi."

"And I'm Wataru, the thirteenth!" So he's the youngest, then, and he and Masaomi-san are actually brothers; that's why he calls him by name. I shake Masaomi-san's hand, cold as it was earlier, and Wataru looks like he may throw himself at me before Ukyo-san grabs him by the shoulder. With a heavy pout on his face, he takes my hand it shakes it vigorously instead.

"I'm Vivi," I tell them, unable to help but smile as large as I can. "So great to finally meet you – for real this time." It definitely feels awkward, standing surrounded by three of my new brothers like this, but I suppose I'll have to get used to it. I'm relieved they seem to be perfectly civil so far, but there are ten I've yet to meet; Juli seems awfully edgy around these three alone, so I'm not looking forward to listening to it later.

"Vivi? That's certainly unique," Masaomi-san says, and I just nod and shrug at the same time, making it seem like I have an uncontrollable twitch. I get that often enough that it doesn't really affect me anymore. "Could it be short for something?"

"Oh, yes, it's - " I begin, but I'm cut off by yet another voice entering the scene, this one far deeper and sultry.

"Would you hurry up and quit hogging her? I want to meet our new little sis already, Kyo-nii." I peek pass Masaomi-san to see yet another man who makes me look like a shrimp, with beautiful golden skin and bright hair parted down the middle, framing his face like a lion's mane with deeply set eyes to match. He's wearing dark violet and yellow Buddhist robes, prayer beads roped around his neck and wrists, and the smile he's giving me is all fox. The way he carries himself as he strides over to me is very confident, sure of himself, so much that it's almost a swagger. Just as I'm thinking that he has a somewhat frivolous appearance despite his outfit, he stoops down to grab my hand and plant a kiss on the back of it, gentle yet enough to make an intense blush rise to my face.

He looks up at me, yellow eyes gleaming, and says, "Welcome to the Asahina house, little lady. Glad to have you here." This angle allows me to see the multiple silver piercings adorning his right ear, and when he catches me staring, his smile flattens out into a mischievous smirk.

Jesus I have to clear my throat. I have to speak over Juli hissing in my ear as he tries to scamper down my arm and give him a piece of his mind. "Thank you very much. Um, I'm glad to be here…"

"Oh," he murmurs, rising back up to his full height so that I have to look up at him. "Those rosy cheeks of yours really bring out your freckles. How adorable." So he says, yet I feel distinctly patronised, like he's also metaphorically looking down on me. I try not to frown, figuring he's just trying to be polite, but Juli is a different story.

"He's dead," is all he growls in my ear, and the golden man merely looks at him with that same sultry gaze, attentive yet unthreatened.

"That's enough of that, Kaname," Ukyo-san tells him sternly with a swift swat over the back of his head that makes me jump and Kaname-san yelp.

"Geez, Kyo-nii, no need to be so aggressive," he says, rubbing the back of his head tenderly, though he doesn't look particularly angry. More like he's even more amused than before.

"Then don't play the idiot… I'm sorry about him," Ukyo-san adds, addressing me. "This is the third son of the family, the next youngest after me, Kaname. Though he looks like – well,  _that_ , he's a monk, albeit a shotty one."

"Oh, really?" I drawl out, though it's hard for me to imagine. I always thought of monks as followers of principle, serious and thoughtful, but it must not be true of every single one – they're all different people, after all, so it isn't right for me to globalize. Kaname-san could very well be an excellent monk, and he's just more comfortable at home.

"Mmhmm, that's right," he responds, nodding thoughtfully. "If you'd like I can always make time to share a sermon with you – alone that is. Just the thought of being in a room with a cute little thing like you gets me excited, lil' sis." So this has stopped being kind of entertaining and was now getting embarrassing. I press my lips together and look away, though I'm kind of happy to hear him call me "imouto-chan" so easily – even if it isn't necessarily meant with genuine brotherly feelings. I'm taken aback that he doesn't smell like strong, spicy cologne like I'd figured, but rather like incense and something richer, like sandalwood. It isn't bad, though compared to Ukyo-san and Masaomi-san, it's a bit overwhelming.

There's suddenly an arm thrown around my shoulders, startling me enough that I make a shocked sound resembling a retch, leaving Juli to start hissing and puffing his chest while the offender laughs goodnaturedly. "I like that reaction. Kana-nii's always messing around like that, so there's no need to take him seriously, got it?"

"So you say, Tsubaki," a different, calmer voice chimes in, deep and somehow familiar. "Though it's not like you're much different, you know?"

"No need for that so early in the day, Azusa." I finally ease my panicked heartbeat enough to look back at who'd just gave me the one-armed hug, and see two men with essentially the same face standing side-by-side and smiling kindly at me. They look like mirror images of each other, one with startling white hair and the other with sleek black, their fringe flipped on different sides to reveal one eye the colour of vibrant bluebells. The one with an arm around me, his warmth pressing up against the side of my body, is decked out in silver jewelry, from rings to necklaces to piercings in both his ears. There's a beauty mark under his left eye, opposite the other man's, who has a beauty mark beneath his right, concealed by black-framed glasses a bit. "Nice to meet you, I'm Tsubaki," says my companion with a cute little wink. Who the heck winks anymore? It's odd enough to get me to snort, which makes him smile even wider.

"I'm Azusa," says his double, extending his hand for a shake. He seems much more reserved than Tsubaki-san – who has yet to detach himself from me – and I grasp his hand in mine, his touch light as if he's afraid of hurting me. Which was a bad decision, since I accidentally used to much strength and caused him to flinch a bit. I rip my hand back, embarrassed, and mumble out an apology with my name.  _This_ is exactly why I'm so bad with new people; I was lucky enough to meet Maho-chan, who's so easy-going she doesn't mind my monster strength which is so often out of my control.

He shakes his head easily, as if writing my rudeness off as nothing – in fact he seems kind of amused by it. "It's nice to finally meet you," he says with a kind smile, and I wonder how many more times I'll hear that sentence today. It was nice, though, being surrounded by so many people in one house when I'm so used to just Juli and I. The former, on the other hand, is clearly the exact opposite from how he's actually trying to pry Tsubaki-san's arm off of me.

Wataru tugs at my sleeve on the side opposite of Tsubaki-san, and I look down to him with an expectant grin. "Tsukkun and Akkun are important people in video games and anime, you know!"

I'm immediately confused, having no idea what that could mean, but he's looking at me so earnestly and proudly that I just nod. I've never been around kids too much, so I'd have to educate myself in their language in order to get along with him better, I think; I don't suppose there's anything wrong with a big sister trying to be a part of her little brother's life, right? "He means that we're voice actors," Tsubaki-san translates, and without hesitating another heartbeat he whirls me around to catch me in a tight squeeze, earning a shocked yelp.

"We're featured in all kinds of stuff, from new animes to RPGs and otome games! You're definitely gonna have to keep an ear out for us, 'kay?" From the sounds of it that's exactly what I'll be doing, since he had literally just pointed out a few of my hobbies. I wonder if I'd already seen – or rather, heard – anything with them in it yet. My heartrate stutters from nervous to just outright excited. How cool must it be to be in a profession like that?

"Um, that's wonderful," I say, glad I'd thought enough to put my hands between us. I never get this close with any guy save my father and a couple from middle school, so I was vastly unused to this much physical contact from the opposite sex in one day. "But would you mind letting me go, Tsubaki-san…?"

"You remembered my name!" He chuckles, his grip tightening into more of an embrace that makes Juli let out an awfully human scream. "I'm so happy! I wonder, should I call you Vivi-chan or 'imouto-chan'?"

At this point I really don't care, I'm just trying to keep myself from having a stroke. "Come on, can't we decide when you're  _not_ hugging me?"

I cannot wrap my head around how completely undeterred he is. "How come? It's not fair that Kana-nii gets all the affection. Let me in on it, too!" Maybe this is normal for siblings, and I'm overreacting in an astronomical way, but I'm pretty sure I'm just feeling uncomfortable in a stranger's arms, regardless of how we're related to each other now. I can also feel the eyes of my other brothers on me, sympathetic and amused, which is just making me even more mortified. All of this is definitely going to take some getting used to.

Thankfully he finally tears himself away with a sharp grunt of pain, and all I see from behind his stopping form is Azusa-san with his hand extended in a tight fist, his tendons pushing out threateningly. "That's enough, Tsubaki."

"That  _hurt_ , Azusa! Don't you think it's unfair Kana-nii's getting in all the canoodling?"  _Canoodling?_ He hadn't just actually used that word in a sentence. "Have a little mercy!"

"Get over it." He'd seemed so calm before, but it was clear just from that exchange that Azusa-san is the roleholder of keeping Tsubaki-san in line. From the reactions of everyone else, this must be the kind of thing that happens often; the only ones who are surprised are Juli and I. He looks at me helplessly, shrugging a little, and says, "Sorry, okay? Whenever Tsubaki's bothering you, don't hesitate to come to me for help. I'll lend you a hand." A fist is more like it, but it seems so bizarre to me, having grown up without any siblings, that I can't help but laugh. He seems relieved that I'm not too put off about the whole thing, but how can I be? I can't remember having this much fun in a matter of minutes before.

"What's with that? I don't see anything wrong with hugging my precious little sister…" Tsubaki-san's words sent my heart aflutter, absolutely gleeful that I'm being accepted so easily. Juli, who was in hysterics a matter of seconds ago, finally settles down with an irritated twitch of his whiskers once he catches sight of my expression. These people are my family now, and even though they have lifetimes of dealing with each other under their belts, they're welcoming me with open arms while being so energetic and lively. How nice it must have been to grow up like that, surrounded by people who cared about you, who could tease you and torment you like brothers do but still be there for you in the end… I hope one day we'll all have a relationship like that, though I hope they aren't too excessive with the tormenting part.

"What do you think so far?" Tsubaki-san asks me, finally recovered from his brother's sock to the head. "Losing your mind yet?"

Since I can't say no, I just shrug and say, "I think my SnapChat stories are going to be a lot more exciting from now on," which makes him let out a hoot along with a few snickers from the others.

"In case you couldn't tell," Ukyo-san cuts in whilst clearing his throat. "These two are identical twins." So low I almost don't catch it, he mutters: "Double trouble, if you ask me," under his breath, and I cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"You are seriously adorable!" Tsubaki-san gushes suddenly, which Azusa-san just quirks an eyebrow at. "So much like the little sisters from games, yanno? So cute!" I'm surprised he isn't full-on squealing or jumping up and down by now from how excited he sounds, and it suddenly all makes sense as to why he's acting so awestruck. He must like those animes and games in which little sisters were the main object, and he finally has one of his own. I'm kind of disappointed that I probably won't be able to meet his expectations – it hurts me when he looks at me with his eyes shining with hope and full of ideas, and I have to look away with a self-depreciating smirk.

"Tone it down a bit, Tsubaki, you're scaring the daylights out of her." Ukyo-san does not look very impressed with his attitude, and he's practically standing in front of me like a bodyguard. Juli's nodding from my shoulder, rolling his head in a circle while saying, "Mmm-hmmm, you tell 'im."

"Let's see, who's next… Subaru, Iori, come over here." His command acts as the magic words and two more men melt into the ever-growing crowd, and the claustrophobia I hadn't felt in the elevator is practically crushing me now.

Lo and behold, one of the guys he'd summoned turns out to be the attractive one I'd passed on my way here, with the ash hair and deep hazel eyes, the entire atmosphere around him relaxed and the complete opposite of Tsubaki-san's. The other man who'd arrived with him was a giant, dressed in a jersey of some sorts with turquoise, black, and blue adorning it, his hair cropped short and dark with the same blue eyes as Miwa-san. His expression is obviously one of discomfort, since he's unable to meet my gaze and his face seems a little flushed. I hope he's feeling okay; they really didn't have to all accumulate here to introduce themselves to me. I felt a little spoiled, as I always do whenever Dad comes home, and I warn myself not to get used to it.

"This is the ninth son, Subaru," Ukyo-san says, indicating the taller man in the jersey. "He's in university." I'm relieved that the others are not just staring at these introductions in complete silence, their chatter filling up what could have been a tense quiet with the lack of response Subaru-san was experiencing. I tell him it's nice to meet him, because it truly is, and he finally makes a noise that sounds a bit like "'sup" if I'd heard him correctly. It could have just as easily been him clucking his tongue, and all I can think to do is smile.

Tsubaki-san swoops in, this time his arm around Subaru-san's shoulders. "Subaru's a nice, pure boy, so he's not very used to interacting with members of the opposite sex. Don't let it bother you if he doesn't talk much, 'kay?"

" _Tsuba-nii_ ," Subaru-san hisses, his face beet red and eyebrows slashed down in irritation.

"What?" He responds, clearly enjoying himself. "I'm not saying anything untrue, am I?"

Ukyo-san graciously chooses to ignore them, moving on to the guy wearing the Bright Centrair uniform. Juli's examining him up and down, unimpressed. "Bet he thinks he's hot stuff just because he's good-looking," he mutters, and his complaints are muffled once I wave my hand against him enough times.

"This is the tenth son, Iori." That was the name those girls who were hounding him had called him, and it seems to suit him; the intonation of it, the way the characters sounded together, just sounds sophisticated and almost lyrical. "He's in his third year of high school." My senpai, then. I wonder which honorific he'd prefer…

"A pleasure," he says to me with yet another handshake, a spark in his eyes indicating that he recognizes me as the weird eavesdropper he'd seen earlier. "Welcome to the family." Oh, god, that sounds amazing, and not just because it's coming from the full mouth of an Adonis. That's something I never figured I'd get to hear, and it gets me feeling significantly more shy than before. I had no idea what to expect of my new brothers, whether they'd be nice or whether we'd get on, but so far they seem like such genuine people, none of them afraid of being themselves around me. I had brothers of all ages, and while some of their features didn't seem to be common, they all had the same shapely jaws, more sharp the older they were, and carried themselves with ease and acceptance. Even if they don't look similar from afar, it isn't hard to see they're related when we're all under the same roof like this. I'm struck with the question of what their father was like, and think of how I would've liked to meet him, but I never would have had the chance to meet  _them_  in exchange. How peculiar. Everything around me is so new and foreign, but I realize that the smell of this place, something I'd been considering earlier, is not so different from mine after all.

It smells like a home, filled with laughter and home cooking and meaningless chatter. I'm almost moved to tears. This is what I'd always wanted, and now I'm blessed enough to finally have such a big family to call my own – well, not officially until November, but the thought is there.

"Your uniform," Iori-san begins, jolting me from my heartfelt soliloquy. "It's from Hinode High, yes?"

"That's right," I say, fiddling with my kerchief. The sleeves of my beige cardigan fall a bit past my hands, and I want to push them up but stop myself, knowing what the consequences would be: shock, maybe laughter, maybe disgust, who knows. I'm not willing to take the chance yet, but since all of us are living together from now on, they're going to find out sometime. "I've been going there since I started high school."

"I wonder…" he murmurs, then trails off, muttering to himself, a gleam of humor in his eyes. I cock my head, wondering what he could be thinking about, and also that he's something of an enigma.

"I'll have to introduce you to the others when they get home." Ukyo-san seems deep in thought, grasping his chin between his forefinger and thumb. "The others you'll meet in due time, I imagine. There is one more, though…"

The sound of a door bursting open in a rush resonates throughout the room, though it mostly goes unnoticed; it must be a regular occurrence. "Sorry I'm late!" Another male voice says, this one with a bit of a twang and lighter in pitch. It's a voice familiar to me, so familiar that my stomach sinks, remembering all the drinking, the cracking of bones, the maniacal laughter…  _God-fucking-dammit._

"Yuu-chan," Kaname-san sighs, his voice exasperated as he reclines loosely on the sectional. "Don't tell me you were wasting all your time away at the game center again."

"N-no! I was studying at school for once, actually, smartass."

"Enough what that language… I can't believe you were stuck at school again…" Ukyo-san suddenly has wrinkles between his brow, no doubt earned from years of stressing out over the younger ones.

"My bad," says the voice, and its footsteps are boisterously coming closer, and all I can think of is how I finally realized why the name Asahina was so familiar to me, and I wonder what took me so damn long to realize it.

The sound of footsteps stop dead once they've reached the group of people I'm gathered with, and I turn apprehensively to the sound of the voice choking over, "Hi… Hinata?"

The voice which belongs to my classmate, Yuusuke Asahina, who looks none too pleased to see me here, surrounded by his brothers and with luggage slung across my back – not to mention a distinctly rabid-sounding squirrel cursing the forces of the universe that sought to punish him like this.


	6. Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After realizing one of her classmates is now related to her by marriage, Vivi begins to feel a bit more uncomfortable in her living situation. She is introduced to her new room, which helps her ease more into her new home, knowing she has a private place of respite.

**Chapter Six**

**_Room_ **

It feels like both a blessing and a curse to have someone I know as a member of my new family. I'm comfortable around Yuusuke Asahina, since we go to the same school and are even in the same class this year. He's friends with Sasakura-kun, who often associates with Maho-chan and I, resulting in us being something of a foursome that each lunch together sometimes. Something I know in an unfamiliar environment is comforting, and I know that being in the same class gives us no shortage of things to talk about. On the other hand, he looks like he'd rather be anywhere else than in this room with his brothers and I. I don't feel too awkward about this; more of a mixed sense of relief and dread, as he's one of the only people who knows I have something of anger management issues. But it must be an altogether different story for him.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, his voice stuttering and deep mahogany eyes wide. I'm shrugging before I can even answer verbally, which probably isn't the best response, but Kaname-san cuts in before I can say anything.

"Hinata?" His voice is laced with confusion. "Ahh, little sis' maiden name." Maiden name? I'm not even married. I glance at him, then quickly away again when I'm met with a smirk.

Tsubaki-san is suddenly very invested in our conversation. "What's going on?" He asks, returning to stand beside me, violet eyes glittering with mischief. "Do you two know each other?"

"Know each other?" Wataru echoes, head tilted to the side curiously.

"Not so much  _know_  each other," Yuusuke-kun grumbles, rubbing the side of his head as if it hurts, crimson hair coming away mussed. "We are in the same class…"

"Classmates?" Iori-san repeats, his brow wrinkles. Wataru mimics him this time, looking sincerely entertained, and Masaomi-san pulls him away lightly by the shoulder, basically telling him to sit back and watch the drama unfold. Traitor.

"Well, aren't you lucky!" Tsubaki-san is suspiciously chipper, I notice, as his hand clamps down on my shoulder without Juli clinging to it, warm and heavy. "Starting today your cute classmate is going to be your sister! Ain't that just precious?"

Yuusuke-kun blanches. His face is a stark white against the vibrant red of his hair, and my eyes are drawn to the small braids on the lower side of his head that he does all the time, one of the first things I'd noticed about him. " _What?_ I haven't heard a word about this!"

"Oh, really? Sorry, I must have forgotten to tell you!" His expression is completely unrepentant, and Azusa-san just rolls his eyes as he mutters something not meant for Wataru's young ears under his breath.

"Tsubaki," Ukyo-san says harshly, and I can't help but notice how much of a big brother he sounds like. "It was your responsibility to let Yuusuke know, cretin."

"Tsuba-nii!" Yuusuke-kun practically growls, his brows slashed down and mouth turned into a deep frown. "You didn't tell me on purpose!" I'm wondering if I should tune out of this conversation, since it has become less about my presence here and more of a small fight. He looks to me, his face red with anger, and I resist the urge to flinch. No one has looked at me with such hostility before – wait, that's a lie, it actually happens pretty often. I'm just not used to it coming from someone I think of as a friend, which I hope won't be impacted at all by this. I'm actually happy I'll get to see him more now; even though our classmates thought of him as scary, which could be from the hair color and the way it flares out in every direction like a ball of flame, just a single conversation with him is enough to realize that he's a nice and earnest guy.

"I'm not alright with this," he hisses, and I frown thoughtfully. "You're my classmate, not my sister." I don't see why I can't be both; this situation isn't that uncommon, with divorced parents around the same age remarrying. It's a typical drama set-up pretty often on television.

Nonetheless, I feel the need to say something to appease him; I don't want to start off my new family with someone already angry with me. "I'm sorry," I tell him, and I can see the tense set of his shoulders ease up a bit. "It's a bother, isn't it? I know I can't help it much, but I'll try to keep out of your way…"

"No," he cuts in immediately, and I feel Tsubaki-san perk up beside me for some reason. "It's not a bother, necessarily, but…"

"You're angry, aren't you?" I say, confused. "It's okay to be, I'm not upset. I just want to know why."

"It's not that I'm angry either!" The immediate need he feels to clear up misunderstandings is what's so earnest about him, a straightforward quality I like in a person. Even though this seems off to a rocky start I get the feeling we'll get along better from now on. "I just… ugh, for Chrissake, just don't tell anyone at school we're siblings, okay? I don't want them to know."

I can understand where he's coming from; he probably doesn't want people talking nonsense about it, so I nod and say, "I can do that." He storms off basically immediately after, back to the elevator to retreat to his room, no doubt. I feel guilty for essentially chasing him from the room, but what else can I do? I suppose I'll try to talk to him about it later, see if we can work something out that will make dealing with this a bit easier on him. Suddenly having someone you're familiar with and not at the same time turn up as a member of your family must be disconcerting. I feel for him in that, since I also feel distinctly threatened as a new member of such a nice family with the knowledge he has about me.

It's not like I expect him to go blabbing about my deepest, darkest secrets to his brothers; I know for certain he's just not that kind of person. One of the first things I knew about him is that he has a strong sense of what's right and wrong, and won't hesitate to involve himself in potentially dangerous situations. Which is how he ended up being privy to a snap of my temper, accompanied by a literal snap of a classmate's elbow on my part, and I'm nervous that he may think a monster's running around in his house, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. My violent streak is something I'd wanted to nullify in high school, and that incident had basically vetoed that decision.

Masaomi-san heaves a sigh, his eyes trained on the elevator doors as they slide shut with a click of finality. "Sorry about that. Yuusuke's always been a bit… rambunctious."

"That's just his personality," says Kaname-san with a shrug, and I can't help but notice he's gradually shimmying his way closer to me. "Don't let him get you down. As a way to clear out this gloomy ol' mood - " I have no idea what he's talking about, since everyone still seems quite chipper, " – how about you try calling me 'big brother'?"

"Hell naw," is all I hear Juli whisper, and I can feel him practically vibrating with rage on my shoulder.

"I don't know about that…" I say, because it's true. I can barely even think of Miwa-san as my mother yet, let alone these people I have just met as my brothers. I know it's true, and it's going to be officially in writing in a matter of months, but mentally I'm just not keeping up the pace with reality. Plus, he doesn't ask for 'onii-san' or even something more casual like they call each other, such as Masa-nii or Kyo-nii, but 'onii-chan'. That seems a bit too girly for me, and judging from the sparkles lighting up Tsubaki-san's eyes, also a bit too… I don't want to say kinky, because that is by no means what I mean, but it's the only word I can think of at the moment and it only serves to make me more adverse to saying it.

"Don't be shy," he says, closing in on me as well. "I want in on this action too!"

"Tsubaki's always been crazy over the 'little sister' characters," Azusa-san says, expressionless. "This is like a dream come true to him."

I look at him with wild eyes and an insane squirrel practically retching on my shoulder. "No pressure or anything." He turns from blank-faced to amused just like that, rubbing a hand down his jaw to hide his smile.

"She's going to say it to me first," Kaname-san cuts in, and while his tone is completely serious it's obvious from the look on his face that he's enjoying this way too much. "C'mon, lil' sis, show the love."

I've never felt so awkward and put on the spot in my life. Getting urged to take a shot was less pressure than this, as they are staring at me with such expectant eyes and I can barely even tell whether or not they're kidding. The eldest two are just looking at me with something resembling pity or sympathy, Subaru-san is outright disgusted, while Iori-san looks politely disinterested. Wataru, of course, is by Tsubaki-san's side looking at me with the same hope-filled eyes.

"Don't you say it," Juli spits right in my ear. "Don't you dare." I want to tell him it's no big deal, that it's definitely not as embarrassing as I'm making it out to be, but I know from experiences in my childhood that turning and striking up a conversation with a squirrel is not typically perceived as normal, sane behaviour. I'm at a loss, but in the end decide I'd rather they just stop staring at me like that, so I go the safe route – saying it to Azusa-san. The word is odd in my mouth, one I've obviously never had to use before, and I stumble through it a bit at the beginning. He looks mildly surprised to hear me call him that, but plays it off easily after a brief silence – which I'm grateful for.

"Don't push yourself to follow their moronic ideas," he says calmly. "You don't have to listen to them, okay?" I press my lips together and nod, trying to keep from laughing, because he'd just undermined them in such a blasé way that even Juli was quietly pleased. Tsubaki-san, not so much, as he immediately starts clinging to his twin and throwing off his center of gravity.

"I'm sorry about all this," Ukyo-san sighs. "I wanted everything to be relaxing when you got here, but I guess that's too much to ask."

"Know what's not too much to ask?" Tsubaki-san cuts in, his voice coming out garbled from the way Azusa-san was shoving him away by pushing his cheek. "Get used to calling us 'onii-chan', okay? We're family now!"

"Tsuba-chan's exactly correct," Kaname-san chimes in. "We're family now so we expect you to act as such around us. Don't feel the need to be reserved, yeah?"

"That's literally what I just said, Kana-nii."

"Maybe so, but I said it much more eloquently." He lifts up a hand languidly to gesture to me, his long tented sleeve flowing back to reveal a very toned arm. "Look how happy she looks. You really wear your heart on your sleeve, little sister."

"I don't think that's a bad thing," I say, embarrassed now. "I  _am_ happy to be here. I've never had so many people I could call my family before…"

Seeing that they had all stopped their individual conversations to listen in, I stop myself before I start rambling and just laugh nervously a bit. Kaname-san places a hand on my head, a gesture of comfort I think, and smiles down at me softly; probably the first genuine smile I'd seen him wear since I'd met him. "It's a good thing," he says, the look in his eyes warm. "A very good thing." I smile up at him in response, since I can't think of how to respond after just saying something heavy like that. One thing I know I won't grow accustomed to any time soon is all their gazes trained on me at once while I'm talking, politely giving me their attention. I never liked to be the center of attention, and now it seems like it has the potential to happen a lot in this household. I cross my arms, as if I can cage in some of the security I want to feel in an environment where I feel so exposed all of a sudden.

"Onee-chan, will you come play with me?" Wataru asks, skipping to stand in front of me. "I have lots of toys in my room! Even a giant bunny!"

"Let her get settled in a bit first," Masaomi-san says, placing a hand both on his head and my shoulder. I wonder if head pats are a common gesture in this family, since I've seen and experienced it a number of times in the minutes I've been here.

"Allow me to show you to your room," Ukyo-san offers, which I gratefully accept. One of the easiest ways to get used to living here, I believe, is to create a space for myself. Fitting all of my old furniture and whatnots into my new room here will be like combining the past and future together, making it much easier to cope. It's nice to know that I'll always have somewhere to retreat to if I feel things getting a little too crazy; I've never been good around tons of people at once, which is why I always stick with Maho-chan at parties and don't really mingle.

"I wanna see lil' sis' room!" Tsubaki-san cries, and is thankfully caught by the scruff of his neck by his twin, looking to be at the end of his seemingly infinite patience.

"Really, Tsubaki," Azusa-san sighs. "Save it for another time."

"We'll see you in a bit," Kaname-san says with a wave in my direction as Ukyo-san begins leading me back up the loft stairs to get to the elevator. Once we get to the steel double-doors he presses the triangular button facing downwards, and it arrives in a matter of seconds. It's slightly uncomfortable to look back down on the rest of them in the loft and to see them all staring with smiles on their faces as the doors slide close, and I'm worried that the moment these doors close they'll breathe a sigh of relief that they don't have to pretend to like me anymore. While that fear is very real for me, I know that I shouldn't assume they're the kind of people that would do such a thing. Juli nuzzles closer to my neck, sensing my faint distress, and Ukyo-san immediately huffs out a breath and turns to me to apologize again.

"It's only your first day here, so I told them to keep their antics to a minimum," he growls, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "Clearly that meant nothing – I didn't want you to be scared away immediately." He looks at me with a humbled smile and drawn eyebrows, and I realize that he was honestly worried that I wouldn't like this arrangement at all and just make off. He doesn't know me at all yet, so I can understand why he may think that, and decide that I'll do what I can to ease his worries.

"I wasn't scared," I tell him honestly, the smile on my face completely genuine. "It's just different – a good kind of different. I've never had so much energy in one household before."

"It's  _exasperating_ ," he sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I suppose you'll come to learn that soon enough." I laugh at that, since I figure it's probably true and I can't hide my excitement at the prospect. In no time we reach the fourth floor and the doors slide open to introduce a quaint hallway, paned windows lining the walls at regular intervals and letting sunlight splash onto the glossy wooden floors. It has an odd shape to it, straight horizontally then curving downwards left and right, similar to a horseshoe. Tall doors are spaced evenly along the wall in front of us, each a deep burgundy colour. The only sort of decorations are a few framed photos lining the wall, depicting family trips or school events. I smile when I see them, thinking of how I was the only one in pictures around my old house, and I hope I can make fond memories like that with them that can be captured forever within a frame.

Ukyo-san steps out of the elevator and leads me down the hallway only a few steps to the last door on the left side. "This is your room," he says, cracking the door open by turning the knob. "Azusa is your neighbour, and Tsubaki, Kaname, Masaomi-niisan, and myself share this floor as well. Don't hesitate to come get us for anything – even if you feel it's minor." He's looking at me pointedly, his eyes speculating a response, so I just nod severely to reflect that yes, I understand and will take that into consideration (though knowing me I'll most likely be too awkward to do so). He steps inside my room and makes way to gesture for me to follow, which I do after bowing respectfully.

I'm shocked – pleasantly – to see everything put together. I thought I'd have to set up my furniture and whatnot by myself, but save for a few boxes stacked in a corner, my room is in complete order. It's smaller than my old one, which is by no means a bad thing, it just makes the space more intimate. The walls are an extremely pale mint green, which works since all my furniture is white except for a few accents. My bed is made up with my white sheets and duvet, the throw pillows artfully tossed on top with my blanket a colourful slash on the bottom, kept in the corner of the room to leave access to the balcony – another pleasant surprise. My small television and game consoles are all assembled on top of the white entertainment unit. There's a door off to the left from the entrance, presumably a closet, as well as my desk and chair to the other side beside the television.

"We left your clothes and decorations for you to put away yourself," Ukyo-san clears his throat. "Didn't want to be too intrusive. Sorry if we messed up your vision - "

"No," I interject immediately, aware it's rude but wanting to clear up any misunderstandings. "No, this is awesome. I honestly wasn't expecting you to do any of this," I add, gesturing to the whole room. "Thank you so much."

"It's important to be comfortable," he points out, smiling fondly as he stands rod straight in the doorway. "I'll leave you to it for now. We were thinking of just getting take-out tonight – do you have any preferences?"

I laugh because I identify with Kirby in the sense that he sucks up anything in sight. "No, not at all. I'm okay with anything, thank you."

"Alright then." He bows briefly to me, so formal I get a bit embarrassed, and says he'll send someone up later to fetch me. He leaves me with a quiet click of the door shutting, muted by the sound of my blood rushing in my ears from my heart racing. Familiar pieces of furniture in a different place was really surreal, and I had no idea where to start. Honestly, I just wanted to sit down and take a moment to process everything, but the rational part of me shoved that idea aside and led me to set my carry-on down and start tearing into the boxes to get everything put away.

Juli takes a soaring leap from my shoulder to land on my bed, resting on the pink knit throw as he usually does. He looks like he belongs, yet at the same time like he doesn't. "That was incredibly stressful," he spits as I begin by setting my stationary on my desk. "They're more aggressive than I thought."

"They were just being nice, I'm sure," I say as I swipe on my phone briefly to begin playing some music from its small speakers. I hope the walls aren't too thin that they'd mind, and I'm sure that they'd tell me if they did – it's no trouble to just turn down some music, after all. Lana's husky voice begins streaming from it, and while my English is mediocre at best I know enough to understand that it's a melancholy song, bringing me down from my "new experience high".

"Too nice," he growls, and I look over with a snort to notice him tapping his foot impatiently, his arms crossed in a gesture similar to Ukyo-san's. "And you need to be more on-guard – don't just let them touch you so easily!"

I'm a bit frustrated with him at this point, since I honestly see no harm in a bit of familiar physical contact. Most of the framed photos I have – some with Maho-chan, some at my jujutsu studio – have somebody with their arm thrown around me or something like that. I actually hesitate when putting some of them out – what if one of my new brothers (aside from Yusuke-kun, since he's experienced it first hand) comes in to see pictures of me with a faint flush of alcohol in my cheeks, and don't approve? I shake it off with a physical shake of my head; underage drinking is the norm now, and it's not like I go on benders every night. So I shrug to myself and carry on, humming along with the song.

"I don't really care if you hate it," Juli says, more to himself than me. "I'm going to protect you no matter what – that's my job."

"Yes," I say, rubbing him tenderly on the head with my pointer finger. He relaxes into my touch and the tense set of his body eases a bit. "Thank you for being so worried; I know it's because you care about me."

That settles him into a peaceful silence as I move about my new room, my stockinged feet sliding across the floor. There's a tenseness within my chest, one that makes it feel as if it could burst at any moment, and I realize it's because I'm happy. This is my place now, a place with a family that's so full of life and entertainment. I can't wait to tell Maho-chan about them tomorrow at school; I just know she's going to be ecstatic. Then I remember that Yusuke-kun doesn't want anyone to know, and I heave a sigh. I'd have to talk to him sooner rather than later to see what I could do to make this easier for him.

The song changes to something more uppity as I continue yanking stuff out from boxes, and I come across my trophy, something I hadn't seen in years. I consider displaying it, then decide against it. While I am undoubtedly proud of myself for winning the middle school jujutsu championship, it's not something I necessarily want to boast about. So I place it safely within the closet, which has built in shelves lining the wall. There isn't that much left to go, since it was mostly clothes that had to be folded and knick-knacks, so I'm left wondering if I should change out of my uniform – that would be the polite thing to do. But at the same time that leaves the dilemma of what I should wear, of what would make the best impression. This is incredibly troublesome, as I've never cared so much about what people thought about me before. I can't wear sleeveless shirts, not just yet. So I opt to pull on some white-washed jean capris and a long-sleeved burgundy shirt, made out a thin material so I won't die of heat.

My heart's racing again as I think about going back down to all my new brothers, a nervous-excitement that makes me feel a bit sick to my stomach. I glance briefly in my tabletop mirror, and decide to dust a bit of powder on my face to get rid of the shininess. I considered just reapplying my concealer, but I'd remembered how Kaname-san had referred to my freckles as adorable and decided that I agree enough that I don't want to cover them up. After that's done I turn around to see Juli scowling at me, at least as much as a squirrel can, and just shrug. Clearly he's unhappy that I'm trying to at least look different for the "beasts" downstairs, but who dislikes being called cute? With a smile to myself I set to unpack the rest of the little things, sitting cross-legged on the floor with my hair finally let down. It flows in front of my face, glittering near-silver in the sunlight coming from the balcony doors, the humidity making my natural curls border on clownish frizz.

It's when I'm arranging the games on the entertainment unit that I hear a knock at my door. That shocks me enough, since it's so out of the ordinary, that the game clatters to the floor from my hand and Juli's on his haunches, hissing. "Come in," I call at the same time as I wave at him to settle down and relax – which he obviously does not.

I think it will be too awkward to turn and completely stare at the door as I watch whoever it is come in, so I remain turned towards the task in front of me. I hear the door open with a click and my heart is set into a frenzy, then confident footsteps striding towards me. "Wow," says a cheerful voice as something warm lands on my head. I tilt my head up slightly to see Tsubaki-san standing there, his hand on my head again, an impressed expression on his face. "You sure got through this stuff quickly! I came here to offer my help, but it looks like you don't even need it!"

I laugh at that. "I'm a bit of a neat-freak. I appreciate it, though." I wonder when he's going to move his hand. While yes, I don't mind physical contact, I'm experienced enough to know how prolonged, gentle touches are often misinterpreted. It's obvious from the ballistic growling in the room that someone does mind, and I don't think it's my brother.

"That's what brothers are for." He plonks down beside me, crossing his legs like mine, and beaming in my face. What a nice smile he – and all his brothers, for that matter – have. It's so entirely genuine and friendly, something hard to find in people nowadays. "Your hair's gorgeous," he tells me, picking up a piece of it delicately in his hand. I'm unused to such compliments so I wind up flushing a bit against my will. "One of our brothers is a hair-dresser, you know. I'm sure he'd love to get his hands on this."

"That's awesome," I say honestly. "I'd love to have someone else deal with it once in a while." My gaze travels to his head, his hair pure, titanium white but his eyebrows dark and near-black. "That's not your natural colour?"

He shakes his head, finally releasing me, and I try not to let him see me sag with relief. "Nah, my hair's black like Azusa's. I just like experimenting, is all. It's also easier for fans to differentiate us like this, you know?"

"I guess so," I agree, bending back over my games. "It must be hard being pretty famous, huh?" I have no idea what I'm saying, so I'm fully aware I'm babbling. "Though I imagine it must be fun, as well." I'm about to ask him some specific works he and Azusa-san have done, to see if I'm familiar with any, when he pokes the back of my neck and I nearly smack his hand away on reflex. I guess my hair split in the middle to reveal it, and I'm blushing again, this time from mortification.

"What's - " he begins, but he gets cut off by another knock. When I beckon them in it's none other than his twin, looking mighty unimpressed with his current position.

"Tsubaki," Azusa-san says in a voice carrying so much authority I get chills, and I see Tsubaki-san flinch in my peripheral vision. "I told you not to bother her."

"We were just talking!" He cries, then he turns to face me with a pleading look. "Right? Weren't we?"

"Well, yes…"

He's grabbed by the scruff of his neck and a laugh bursts out of me at the look on his face. "I'm sorry," Azusa-san says with a roll of his eyes. "Don't be afraid to tell him he's bothering you, otherwise he won't get it."

"I'm right here," his brother groans, his voice hitching from his collar being pulled against his neck.  
"Which you shouldn't be." Azusa-san yanks him up and places a hand on his back to shove him towards the door, and looks back at me with a kind smile as Tsubaki-san grumbles. "I'm glad you seem like you're settling in alright. We'll see you at dinner, okay?"

"Okay," I say with a wide grin. "Thank you."

He leaves with a respectful nod that knocks his glasses slightly askew, then he escorts his whining twin out with a few harsh words of his own. I heave a sigh of relief once the door clicks shut again. No need for Tsubaki-san to know he'd been touching a dragon's whiskers just yet.

"Jesus," Juli spits, and that's when I notice he's sitting right in front of me, his fur spiked in irritation. "How can someone be so oblivious that he doesn't know he's bugging you? You could see it on your face!"

"To be fair," I say, rubbing the dragon's head tenderly, "I wasn't facing him."

"Vivi." I've never heard him sound so exasperated, and while it's a bit unnecessary, I can't deny I'm amused. "You have a hard time saying no, and while that's fine, you can't be afraid to say that you don't like something - " There's another knock, and his jaw drops. "He just doesn't know when to give up! I cannot  _believe_ \- "

This time I get up and answer it myself, nearly slipping and landing flat on my face from my socks on the smooth wood floor. It's Iori-kun this time, smiling gracefully with his perfectly coifed slate hair falling in his eyes. "Hello again," he says, his voice soothing even the trembling Juli. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Of course not," I say, smiling in turn. "I've just finished unpacking. What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking I could show you around," he says, sounding so sure and confident that I'm actually a bit jealous – I'm quite sure my voice had been cracking like a pubescent boy's. "The neighbourhood, I mean. It will probably be handy to know where all the convenience and book stores are right away so you're not looking around later." He shifts his weight to his right side, so graceful and swift I barely notice. "We can be back in time for dinner."

"That would be great," I answer merrily, flattered he'd been thinking to do something like that. "That's a huge help, thank you." He moves aside so that I can exit my new room and shut off the light and close the door behind me, Juli clinging to my shoulder with a vengeance.

"It's no trouble," he laughs, amused by my formality. I tie up my hair back into a bun as we head to the elevator, and I'm a bit unnerved (not in a bad way) when I find him watching me. He really does look like a prince, with soft eyes and an easy smile. "I can't even imagine how you must be feeling if this is a bit strange for us – we're gaining one new family member when you're gaining thirteen."

I roll my eyes with a smirk. "It's gonna take some getting used to, I think, but I'm looking forward to living here." I smile directly at him and am met with one in kind. "I definitely don't think it's bad by any means."

"I'm glad," he says, his voice dripping with honesty. "I'm sure we'd hate it if we made you uncomfortable, albeit unintentionally. Speaking of, if you ever need help with studying or anything, you can always come to me. I'm happy to help."

"That's nice of you," I reply as we reach the first floor, and I have to squint against the reddening evening light as the doors slide open. "I'll probably take you up on that. Keep in mind that I'm here to help, as well. You can rely on me as your sister from now on, any time." It seemed so natural to me that they should, since they have constantly said that's what family does, but it seems I took Iori-kun by surprise, judging from his widened eyes. But he quickly eases back into his regal smile.

"Of course," he murmurs, seeming genuinely pleased. We slip out of our slippers and into our shoes at the entrance, and I have to unceremoniously bend over the get the back over my heel. "Are you ready to go?"

As I return to a standing position, I have to let out a stretch, lifting my arms high above my head towards the warm sun, soaking it in like a growing plant trying to orient its roots. "As I'll ever be," I say, glad to earn a slight snicker. The two of us walk out of the captivating building together, and I feel so much lighter on my feet than I had on my way here that I can't believe only a few hours or so have passed.

This isn't some kind of trial, or an obstacle in my life I have to overcome. It's a wonderful opportunity to finally be able to call some kind people family, and while I'm thrilled to be getting a very courteous tour from Iori-kun, I honestly cannot wait to be seated at the dinner table with so many people, something I've never had the privilege of doing before.

Even if Juli's hissing is like a constant stream of static interference in my ear.


	7. Special One: Yusuke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A recounting of how Vivi and Yusuke got to know each other in their first year of high school.

**Special One**

**_Yusuke_ **

Vivi Hinata was "that girl" at the entrance ceremony. Not because she was indescribably beautiful, overly edgy, or took your breath away in any way as soon as you saw her. She just looked different, is all. It was obvious she wasn't entirely Japanese, from her porcelain complexion and naturally blonde hair, and maybe that's what got students all curious and staring. Every step she took a new set of eyes locked on her, examined for a moment, then continued about their own business once again. She wasn't remarkable, or breathtaking, just out of the ordinary.

Yusuke Asahina was no exception. She caught his eye as well, though for longer than the other students. Maybe it was something similar to the suspension bridge effect; his heart was already racing and panicked due to it being his very first day of high school, and he was experiencing a whole roller coaster of emotion when they exchanged glances for a brief moment. All he could think was that he'd never seen eyes so big and blue, and that a cherry blossom petal was snagged in the frizz of her curly hair. He'd felt blood rush to his face, and his gaze was trained on her even as she kept walking towards the entrance of Hinode Public High School. She wore her hair down then, and it fell to the middle of her back, winking silver in the sunlight.

Never before had he experienced trouble breathing in that particular way. Nothing was physically wrong with him, he knew that much. Yet there was this sensation, deep in the pit of his stomach, that felt electrified. It buzzed like the cries of cicadas shrieking in the middle of summer, shook him like lightning crashing to the ground. He was frozen for a few moments, then shook himself loose, wondering what the hell had just happened. The possibility that he'd just had a heart attack actually ran through his mind – to him, that seemed much more likely than the reality of the situation.

Orientation seemed so completely unremarkable after that. He tried to pay attention as best he could, but to no avail. His mind kept flashing back to the moment he'd locked eyes with that girl, like any other in his new school, yet somehow completely different. After he'd returned home and Masaomi, his eldest brother, asked him how his first day went, he did not have much to report. But it was the fifth son, Tsubaki's question that threw him.

"Were there any cute girls?" He asked, that familiar teasing glint in his eye he got basically anytime he spoke with Yuusuke.

He had to struggle to swallow his food without choking, a pair of blue eyes gazing into his etched into his head. "Wh-what does that matter?" He'd stuttered, unable to meet his older brother's eyes.

Yuusuke absolutely hated the smile Tsubaki got on his face then, and he had ever since he was a child. It meant nothing but trouble and torment for him. "So there was! Making sure to bring her home for me, 'kay?"

"Get your head out of your ass," he snapped, his face so hot he felt the need to leave the room. "Thanks for the food," he said to the table before making his escape, each of his brothers staring at him with a knowing look in their eyes. He could hear Tsubaki's chuckles until he was inside the elevator to go to his room.

And that was only the first time he saw her. Throughout the entire week, his eyes somehow managed to find her in a crowd, that distinct hair of hers grabbing his attention even from afar. He saw her with every kind of group of high school kids imaginable – the jocks, the popular girls, the loners, the smokers, but most often she was with a girl a bit taller than her with a giant forehead and bursting with energy. Every person she was with she had a smile on her face, the same genuine smile as she just said hello, or even simply waved. She was the same way with everyone, all throughout high school, every single day. At the end of their first week some of the upperclassmen took a fair amount of first years on a night out, the hazing and unbearable awkwardness finally over. He only went because he'd figured she'd be there, and though he couldn't fathom why, he wanted to know more about her – especially her name.

Sure enough she was there, smiling that little grin of hers, the forehead girl attached to her hip. She was drinking, like the majority of the other students there, but her countenance never changed to indicate that she'd had too much. She managed and held herself well. And that managed to get him even more reluctant, even more nervous to just walk up and talk to her. He couldn't. What if she didn't smile in that way of hers for him? What if the sight of him scared her away, since he was so often assumed to be a delinquent from his hair and the way he dressed? He didn't think he could stand it.

As more time passed, he became more familiar with one of his classmates, Kazuma Sasakura. He was popular enough, rather average looking in Yuusuke's opinion, and had seen him in Physical Education – more specifically, seen him perform outstandingly in the one class he was actually good at. He wanted him on the soccer team from seeing him run alone, and he was adamant in his refusal.

"But why not?" Kazuma demanded one lunch break after he'd asked for the nth time.

"I told you, I have a part time job," Yusuke answered gruffly, irritated to be having this conversation again. Just thinking about quitting and not being able to make any more money to pay Tsubaki back for the times he'd loaned him some gave him the shudders. "I don't see any merit in joining a sport, either. It's just bothersome."

"Oh, come on." As nice a guy as Kazuma seemed, he was particularly stubborn, and that natural charisma of his and the windblown flip of his hair was grating on Yuusuke's nerves. "It'll make you more popular!"

 _Popular enough to get noticed by_ her _?_ He shook the thought away immediately, taking another bite of his lunch packed diligently by the second son, Ukyo. "I don't care about being popular…" He trailed off as he glanced out the door to the classroom, the seats in his row empty for lunch, and saw her stride past the doorway, following Forehead Girl. His heart stopped, and the words caught in his throat. He was dimly aware of Kazuma saying something, something about girls in particular, but his ears were honed in on one thing: Forehead Girl calling out: "Come _on_ , Hinata!"

"I'm coming!" Responded his mystery girl with an easy laugh, rubbing the shoulder on the side furthest from him somewhat tenderly. He watched as she moved past the doorway, elegant as a dancer, until not even the tips of her hair were in sight.

So her name was Hinata. His whole body felt tingly, from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes. It took him a second to realize that he was happy – overjoyed, even, to simply learn her name. He wondered why she was holding her shoulder like it hurt. He wondered if Hinata was her first or last name. He wondered what she liked to eat, what her favourite colour was, how her voice sounded without the din of his classmates' conversations in the background.

"Asahina!" Snapped him out of his enraptured daze, and he whipped his head back to Kazuma to see his companion staring at him like he'd grown another head. "You okay, man?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He muttered, wanting to eat more of his lunch but worried he may get sick from the storm brewing in his stomach. No, not storm – a flurry of butterflies.

"Your face is really red," Kazuma murmured, the crease in his eyebrows indicating that he was genuinely concerned. "Maybe you should go to the nurse's office."

"Really, I'm fine," Yuusuke insisted, forcing himself to take another bite. "Just felt… a bit hot in here for a second, is all."

Kazuma clearly didn't believe him from the skeptical look on his face, but seemingly a perceptive guy, he let the subject drop. "Anyway, I told my senpais on the team about you, and they're interested in you joining as well. So won't you at least think about it?"

They had a long staredown, Kazuma with a look of desperation and puppy dog eyes on his face, Yuusuke's expressionless mask twitching out of place. Finally he sighed: "I'll  _think_  about it, that's all." When Kazuma started cheering and doing a victory dance in his seat, he snapped louder, "That's  _all_! I make no promises, so don't be disappointed, all right?"

"That's all I ask for," Kazuma responded, a cheerful grin stuck on his face. "Anyway, about that girl I'm interested in…"

Yuusuke tuned out at that point, aware that he wasn't being very polite, but only interested in hearing about one girl in particular. Besides, he and Kazuma weren't exactly friends, at least not at that point. And little did he know that someday, something would happen to further strain that budding friendship, something he just hadn't bothered to listen to at that point.

That something was not the incident that occurred a few days later, though he supposed it had a certain part in the distance that inevitably formed between them. Yusuke knew Kazuma hadn't meant any harm when he said he'd told his senpais in the club about him, but he hadn't exactly been truthful when he said they were interested in him joining. That was obvious when he found himself cornered against the back of the gymnasium, out of sight from any bystanders and hearing range of any passerby. They weren't thugs, not exactly, but the were older and bigger than him, and undoubtedly intimidating. And, most of all, they were not impressed.

"What makes you too good to join the soccer club?" One of them asked, his jersey zipped up to hide his team number. So Yusuke couldn't rat him out. Clever. "When you're just some wannabe delinquent."

Yusuke was, by no means, a delinquent. He'd gotten into a couple fights back in junior high, but only because the other kids deserved it. He was used to roughhousing, anyhow, growing up with twelve brothers. And what could he help it if he was born with an odd hair colour, bright red as the embers in a firepit? He was free to do with it what he wished, yet was consistently judged for it. Honestly, it was getting tiring. "And these," said another team member, yanking on one of the delicate braids coming from behind his ears. "What the hell are these supposed to be?"

Surely at that point shoving him away was only self-defense. "None of your business," he said simply, blankly, lowering his hands to show that he meant no harm. He didn't want to get into a fight right then, ruining his chance at friendship with Kazuma, and perhaps warranting a reputation that Hinata would come to hear about. He didn't want to be a delinquent, not here, where she was. He'd rather take a few punches and be done with it.

And it looked like that was exactly what was about to happen in retaliation for the shove when the victim took him by the collar of his uniform, glaring death into his eyes. He met them straight-on, physically tightening and bracing his body for a hit, when a small voice permeated the all too intimate space between them: "Is everything alright over here?"

His heart was sent into a frenzy, and he knew even without looking who it was. He was both ashamed and giddy to turn his head, shoved up against the concrete wall of the building, to see Hinata standing a few meters away, hands calmly at her side and with that little smile on her face. Though it didn't exactly look completely friendly right then, it still made Yuusuke feel like he was going to pass out just by looking at it.

"Perfectly alright, girlie," said the first soccer team member, striding over to her with a swagger that suddenly made Yuusuke's blood boil and vision go red. "Why don't you just come over here with me and leave them to it?"

That was Yusuke's opponent's cue to lift him up against the wall by the collar and smack him against it, hard enough that the breath got knocked out of him. More than anger, more than joy, he felt utterly ashamed to appear so weak and victimized in front of a girl like her. The one his eyes followed wherever she went. The one who seemed to always walk on air. Who had hair like a princess in an anime, eyes like the ocean at his family's beach house, a smile like the sun shining down on the damned earth.

The upperclassman reached his hand back, curled into a fist, about to thrust it into Yusuke's face. He knew it would hurt, judging from the way his tendons stood out, pointed like knives. He knew that wouldn't be the only one, since the third team member who'd spent the whole exchange smirking was actually cracking his knuckles like he was some kind of gangster. Still he didn't blink, and still he didn't move. He just looked at the upperclassman inches away from his face, and his expression only served to enrage him further. His fist went flying and got him square in the cheek, crushing into his nose enough to make it crack so loudly that he could have sworn it was a boom of thunder.

But that was impossible. The sound couldn't be that loud; the punch wasn't even that bad. That's when he realized that the cracking he'd heard didn't come from him, but rather from another one of the upperclassman, the ringleader of the three, who was making noises strongly resembling a small mammal caught in a bear trap.

Yusuke and the soccer team members looked his way, absolutely befuddled, and in unison their hearts sank. All they could see was the first team member, the one with his jersey zipped up, on his knees with his arm twisted at an awkward angle and held in the grip of someone with the face of an  _oni_ mask. His heart stuttered then kickstarted into overdrive, some indescribable feeling rushing through him as he was released from his opponent's shocked and slack grasp.

"I imagine that members of the soccer team don't have to use their arms  _too_ often," Hinata snarled, the smile on her face contorted and capable of striking terror into the hearts of children. "But it would probably inconvenience you a lot to have it snapped, huh? Not to mention that it would hurt a whole fucking lot, don't you agree?"

She had the upperclassman in her tightening grasp, had him whimpering like a wounded dog. The other two stared at her, bewildered and shell-shocked, while her smile grew and she twisted just a bit more, enough to make her victim cry out from the pit of his gut.

"Jesus Christ, let him go!" One of them yelped, fear colouring his tone. Yusuke was still rendered speechless, his eyes showing whites all around, and his knees gave out so that he slid down against the wall.

"So long as you leave him alone, and don't say a word about this, I'd be glad to," she sang, shoving her arm under their upperclassman's opposite armpit and shifting her grip into a headlock. "Deal?"

"Whatever!" They cried, and she let him go with a heavy thump as he hit the ground. He was left wheezing, clutching his right arm in fevered pain as they made off, cursing words like "crazy bitch" and "monster" under their breath.

That left the two of them, gazing at each other wordlessly, the dark expression on her face replaced by one as blank as a sheet of paper. Without warning she crumpled to the ground, and Yusuke felt a surge of adrenaline help him to his feet as he crouched next to her, concerned. He was about to ask if she was alright, the words stuck in his throat, when he saw that she didn't look like she was in pain – instead her face was flushed bright red, highlighting freckles dotted along her nose and the tops of her cheeks, her face a mask of shame.

"I'm so sorry for butting in like that," she groaned, clapping her hands to her face. "That was absolutely mortifying, I'm so sorry. Um, I should probably go now…" She stood to leave immediately, that lovely shade of red still colouring her face, when Yusuke cried out and stopped her. He didn't wail anything dashing or inspirational, not even a simple word like "wait!" but instead just some garbled noises making him sound like a drowned turkey that made her concerned enough for his mental well-being that she turned around.

Yusuke couldn't find any words. The only noises coming from his mouth were incomprehensible stutters. She was finally there, in front of him, all of her attention focused on him. All he could think was about how absolutely adorable she looked with her face all red, and how cool she seemed to him, so fearless and brave. He was finally able to settle on two words, albeit roughly: "Th… thank you."

She stared at him for a moment, the redness draining from her face and her blue eyes wide. Even though she'd twisted that upperclassman's arm like it was no more than a frail branch, she was a completely average size, not too skinny and not too tall, either. She was so normal, but at the same time, she was so completely unique to him. He knew he was a goner when she responded with a boisterous, amazing laugh, her cheeks only a rosy pink and her eyes shut tight in glee. His heart stopped, and suddenly he was the one with the face that matched his hair colour.

"You're very welcome!" She said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "I'm just glad you're not hurt too badly." She held a hand out to him, to help him up, and he felt a bolt of lightning shoot through his arm upon contact. He was shocked to feel her lift up his entire body weight like it was  _nothing_ , yet at the same time he was only more taken with her strength. "I'm Vivi Hinata, and I'm in class C. I hope I'll be seeing you around."

His name. He had to remember his damn name. "Yusuke Asahina," he managed, his voice coming out a bit strangled. She'd let go of his hand as soon as he was standing, but he could feel the warmth of her touch lingering like a gentle caress. He clutched that hand into a fist, desperate to keep the feeling for even a few seconds longer, and suddenly he knew exactly what that feeling he'd had such difficulty identifying was.

Now he understood why they called it a 'crush'. It felt like a weight was constantly pressing down on his chest, leaving him struggling for air, yet craving it more and more. Her very presence was intoxicating, making him dizzy and clumsy. And the feeling would only grow stronger and stronger as time went on, devastating in nature, yet as addicting as the sun was to flowers.


	8. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iori shows Vivi around their neighbourhood, and Yusuke is a bit disgruntled to find them together. They all have dinner together as a family for the first time, and Vivi finds it to be almost a surreal experience.

**Chapter Seven**

_**Dinner** _

My heart is pounding in that strange way it does when you're seconds away from boarding a particularly threatening roller coaster – part anxiety and part giddiness. All this just from walking beside a guy I'm living with now, one who looks and acts like the perfect gentleman, and he's being so kind and easygoing that not even Juli had anything to say. Iori-kun shows me around the neighbourhood, comprised with houses of the same modern style as his – ours – and the ones I saw on my way here.

We cross paths with one of the boarders who lives on the bottom floor, and he introduces himself as Ryu Karasuma, a photographer who helps out with Miwa-san's work sometimes. He seems perfectly friendly as well, and he's all smiles as he examines me and gives Iori-kun the most sudden thumbs-up I've ever seen, then he's on his way back to the mansion. After that we continued on our tour as per usual, and he shows me the closest convenience store – two blocks away – and buys us iced tea. I'm immensely grateful for that, as I felt severely overdressed in sweltering weather like this, but at least it's cooling down as the sun sets and night approaches.

Sunrise Residence isn't located too far from the hustle and bustle of Kichijoji; downtown is easily within walking distance, and while we don't venture that far today, he shows me what streets to take to get there and recommends the best bookstores for study guides and the restaurants with the best food.

"Taking a walk in the park on a day like today is very relaxing, and good for when you need to take a break from all that insanity," he jokes, gesturing back in the direction of the house.

I let out a snort in synchronization with Juli. "I bet. I think I'm a bit too eager to make nice to be running from you guys just yet."

His brows furrow a bit at that, but the polished smiles remains on his face. "You seem a lot more excited than nervous about all of this."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He shakes his head, and I can't help but notice how impossibly soft his hair looks. I need to know his secret. "No, not at all. Unexpected, if anything. Then again, you did mention how you've never had much family."

I nod in confirmation. "Just me and my dad." When I receive a hissing protest from my shoulder, I roll my eyes and add, "And Juli." I press a finger to his smooth, furry forehead and he rubs against it – almost territorially. "Dinner's always quiet, even when he's home, and we get along so well… too well." I grit my teeth into a smile that I can't restrain, the kind that makes kids cry when they see me. "Sometimes I wish for a bit of action, like fighting for the last piece of food at the table or what to watch on TV."

Only after the words out of my mouth do I realize I sound like a sadistic lunatic, and before I can apologize Iori-kun is tilting his head back in laughter, and my face is as red as a traffic light. "You'll get no shortage of that here," he snickers, reaching up to ruffle his hair. "I'll make sure to include you any time I feel like starting a fight for food."

I made myself sound like a starving orphan, for the love of god. "Please do," is all I can think of to say, shaking my head at my own failings. He's still having a bit of a chuckle to himself when he says we should start heading back – Ukyo-san had texted him that dinner had arrived.

"That reminds me," Iori-kun says, cocking his head to the side. "You need everyone's numbers, don't you?" I nod, knowing that he means 'in case of emergency' instead of something more untoward. We exchange our cell phone numbers quickly then begin the walk back, tossing our emptied cans of tea into a recycling can along the way. He just gives a soft underhand throw while I beam it inside like a psycho, not intending to show off but just on reflex. This is how I discover that Iori-kun has an odd sense of humor; he's laughed every time I've done or said something passive aggressive in only the past hour, which is far too many to be normal. I've also never seen Juli look so embarrassed to be associated with me before, which is saying something.

The streets are fairly well-lit; the sky is just turning a soft violet, slashes of baby pink and orange still visible on the horizon, and we have no difficulty finding our way from the golden glow of the lights and dying sun. The mansion itself is surrounded by gentle pot lights on the boardwalk and around the giant tree, but I still manage to trip over my own feet, which is very unsurprising considering how much of a klutz I tend to be. Iori-kun catches me by the arm before I fall flat on my face and rights me with a snicker. "You can't be left to your own devices for a second, can you?"

Juli has the mood swing of a PMSing woman and starts spitting out insults while I take the far less defensive route and let out a laugh. "You make it sound like I'm a baby that's way too adventurous for its own good."

He quirks an eyebrow at me. "You're trying to tell me that your dad didn't have a tough time with you when you were a toddler?"

I cross my arms, indignant. "He thought I was trying to off myself when I got my hands on the cough syrup and downed it all in one swig, but that's besides the point. I'm a big girl now." There it is again – I'd made what could be considered a vulgar joke (even though it really happened) and it had him chuckling, albeit darkly. I'm glad to note that we have a similar sense of humour – which is dark, sarcastic, and borderline offensive. I can see us getting along in the future.

We're still having a little giggle when he opens the door for me and gestures for me to go first, which I thank him for before taking my shoes off and sliding back into my slippers. A high-pitched dingresounds through the entrance, and I briefly panic over leaving the oven on before I come back to reality and realize that one, I hadn't been cooking a damn thing and two, it's the elevator. Yusuke-kun emerges from it, looking perplexed, which quickly changes to a shocked confusion when he takes in the sight of our brother and I together.

"What were you two doing?" He asks quietly, his voice gruff and – suspicious? He couldn't possibly be thinking we were off doing something illicit on my first day of living here; he knows me better than that. Well, he doesn't know I'm a virgin and have only one person to call an ex (if that), but that's not exactly something I go around boasting about. Iori-kun comes to the rescue before I start over-analyzing everything that's happening in front of me.

"I was showing her around the neighbourhood," he says simply, his voice gentle and melodic. I swear it can probably lull me to sleep. "Where the convenience store is, how to get into town… that kind of stuff. What's for dinner?"

"Italian." Yusuke-kun's eyes are still narrowed, looking far more red than brown in the fluorescents, so I just smile at him easily, like I always have.

"You're cannibals? That's terrible," I gasp, putting a hand to my mouth, and Juli rolls his eyes so hard I think they're going to get stuck in the back of his head. Yusuke-kun snaps his head around to look at me, startled, then immediately looks away again. So he's back to avoiding eye contact, then. I deflate like a popped balloon, lowering my hands with a small sigh to expel any negative energy, then Iori-kun puts his hand on my shoulder to steer me towards the elevator.

"Well, we don't want them to get cold." I'd forgotten about the cannibal joke I'd just made and have a brief heart attack, but then realize he's being a good sport and relax again. "Are you coming, Yusuke?"

"Hinata," he says in response, and I turn to him with a cordial grin. "Mind if I talk to you for a sec?"

"No problem," I say, waving to Iori-kun. "We'll see you up there. Thank you so much for showing me around."

His smile is almost breathtaking, and I can see the bishounen sparkles exploding from behind him. "Any time. Don't be too long or you'll have to fight for it." When that makes Yusuke-kun groan in irritation, I laugh yet again and feel that giddy skip of my heartbeat at the thought.

After the elevator doors close on Iori-kun, the space around Yusuke-kun and I almost becomes like a vacuum of tension, sucking all the energy and comfort from the entryway. He definitely looks like he wants to say something from the frustrated set of his brow, something I'd grown accustomed to in the time we've known each other. I wonder if I should prod him for information or wait for him to continue on his own, but then he looks at me with an unreadable expression which I can only think of to smile at. That seems to have been enough: he says, "I'm not mad at all. Honestly."

I nod. "Okay. I'm glad."

He seems a bit taken aback by how quickly I'd accepted that, but quickly recovers and stumbles through his thoughts spewing out into words. "It's just weird, is all – you were just a classmate and now we're going to be living in the same house together. It's…" He shudders, and I'm briefly offended. I can't be that disgusting. "It's not something I ever thought would happen. But it doesn't mean I like you any less." His face goes red, and he elaborates. "I mean, I still think we're… we're friends. If you do, that is."

"Of course," I say, startled that he'd ever thought otherwise. I'd basically considered us friends from the day we met, when I'd nearly snapped some upperclassman's arm in his defense. Maybe that was presumptuous of me, though. "I never thought we weren't. And I agree – this is definitely weird, but I'm excited, too. At least we'll get to know each other better, right?"

Yusuke-kun hesitates, just for a moment, before answering. "Right. But I still don't think we should tell kids at school." He seems to feel bad for saying that, twisting his mouth like the words felt sour in it, but I nod in agreement nonetheless.

"Sure, I get where you're coming from." I think about how we'll be getting to school, how we'll realistically be leaving at the same time and taking the same train, essentially arriving together everyday. I purse my lips, wondering how I can dance around the truth of the matter. I can just say that I moved, and we live closer together now. It's not like I'd be lying.

He nods in turn, seemingly satisfied. "Good. I just didn't want you thinking that I disliked you being here, or anything like that. Because that's not true – at all." His flush deepens, embarrassed by what he just said, then he clears his throat to serve as a transition. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's get some grub."

"Absolutely," I sigh contentedly, beating him to the punch by pushing the elevator button so quickly he blinks in astonishment. "I'm really glad you're here, actually. Now I won't be so nervous to stuff my face, like usual." My eating habits are less than elegant; I pack my own lunch everyday, so naturally I pack as much as I think I'll eat, which is a monstrous amount. Yusuke-kun is grinning at the thought, having been privy to my pig-fest on more than one occasion.

"That's good; it's not like you to hold back." We step into the tight space together, and he keeps a space the size of another person between us, completely intentionally judging from his tight stance. "We always get a lot of food here, so don't be shy. With the way Kyo-nii cooks it's not exactly like leftovers are really necessary."

"Ukyo-san does the cooking?" I ask, curious. He certainly seemed like a driving force behind the household, with the way he controlled his brothers.

Yusuke-kun nods, his hair shining like embers in the elevator's warm light. "Almost every day – he packs lunches, too. He's been doing it for as long as I can remember… that's probably why he's so good at it."

"Hmm," I say, looking down to Juli for reinforcement. He just looks like he's stewing in his own misery, glaring at Yusuke-kun with daggers for eyes. "I can't wait to try it. Your lunches always look amazing."

That earns me a snort. "He's probably excited to show off. I think he was actually a bit disappointed when we all decided on takeout for tonight."

By now we've reached the fifth floor and the doors slide open with a swift, soft noise resembling a rush of wind. A few of my brothers are scattered on the couches in the loft, the rest of them already seated at the large dining table below. Kaname-san is the first to greet us when we exit the elevator by sweeping into a standing position, his robes barely grazing the ground. "Glad to see you've joined us, lil' sis," he tells me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Yuu-chan," is all he says to acknowledge Yusuke-kun, which doesn't go unnoticed judging from the irritated twitch of his eyebrow.

"It smells delicious," I say excitedly, feeling my stomach widen into a yawn, desperate for food even though I've eaten today. I know that it doesn't matter; just like how I can sleep anywhere I feel warm, I can eat anywhere I smell food, no matter how much I've already had that day.

"That's good. Kyo-nii said you weren't picky, but we still worry." His other hand reaches up to my opposite shoulder, presumably to steer me, but he snatches it back when a certain finicky rodent rips his claws into the air, hissing.

"Juli!" I growl, silently begging him to behave. He mumbles something about being too familiar, and I roll my eyes heavenward.

Kaname-san is good enough to just laugh it off, waving his hand languidly through the air. "No worries. I'd be possessive of you, too, if I was him." Oh. Well, I have no idea how to respond to that except to press my lips together, a bit astounded.

"Knock it off, Kana-nii," Tsubaki-san says, appearing out of nowhere and giving me a start. "Let the poor girl eat without harassing her!"

"That's rich, coming from you," Azusa-san calls from one of the couches, a stack of assembled papers resting in his lap, his eyes never moving from their pages.

"You come eat, too," says the eldest twin. "Work later. Food now."

"Yes," I agree instantaneously, sick of the pleasantries and desperate for food like the mean-spirited person I am. "Food now."

"Hinata's got an appetite on her," Yusuke-kun adds, swatting Kaname-san's hand off of my shoulder. "Better get out of her way."

Tsubaki-san's violet eyes (or eye, rather, seeing as only one is visible from his hair) bore into him, and I watch in muted horror as he gets the tiniest yet most devilish smirk on his face. "Yusuke, don't you think you should start calling her by her first name? We're in the same family, after all."

"Toss off," Yusuke-kun hisses, cheeks beet red. "I do what I want."

"Vivi's such a cute name, though!" I'm practically bouncing with hunger now, looking at Yusuke-kun, the one stable and familiar figure I have at the moment, desperately.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," he says, getting the message. He gestures for me to follow him down the stairs and I move to follow him so quickly I stumble, then right myself before anyone else has to ask me if my face feels okay after falling on it. I hear a few muffled snickers, and feel my cheeks redden before taking the stairs carefully to reach the dinner table, the promised land.

The only table I've ever sat at with so many people is in the cafeteria at school; never in a place like home. I have no idea where to sit until Wataru yanks on my arm – not roughly – and tells me to sit next to him. Relieved I don't feel that pressured into making a decision, I plop down beside him and we exchange a gleeful smile. On the other side of him is Masaomi-san, then on my other side is Yusuke-kun. The farthest away from me are Iori-kun, who meets my gaze with a smile, and Subaru-san, who looks away quickly. My heart pangs in panic – I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable. I'm sure there will be better chances for us to get along; I don't want to pressure anyone when we're all gathered together like this. I return to a standing position quickly when I see Ukyo-san in the kitchen, and immediately offer to help him bring the food out. He seems a bit surprised to see me there all of a sudden, but accepts gracefully.

Everyone is at the table by the time we get all the food set down. I'm almost drooling on it, and that's no exaggeration; the smell of the rich seasoning wafts into my nose and makes my stomach roar. There's pasta, salad, chicken, sausage, house-made bread, rice tossed with tomato and spinach… I want it all. My dad used to always joke that I act like I may perish if I don't eat food immediately after I see it, and in this moment, it feels like I just might. Ukyo-san asks me what I'd like to drink after I reassume my seat, and since I don't think he'll appreciate me asking about booze as a lawyer, I ask for water. All the eldest siblings have either beer or wine, except for Masaomi-san and Subaru-san, who are stuck with water as well. I'm bursting with glee when we all clap our hands together in unison and say thanks for the meal, then they all look to me to serve myself first, which I happily comply to. I'm not shy when it comes to a meal, and my plate's loaded in a blink, then everyone else is serving themselves, chuckling, swatting hands away. I almost can't eat, my stomach feels so full of joy – almost.

"Is it good?" Kaname-san asks me, amused, and my mouth is full so I can only nod. The seasoning isn't too heavy, and the chicken is cooked well enough that it isn't rubbery or tough. It's a bit spicy, but I love spicy foods the most, so I don't particularly mind. "I'm glad."

I rip off some of my bun and pass it down to Juli, who is oddly polite in dining situations such as these and moves to the floor. Sometimes I forget that he really is a wild animal, since he has such a strong personality and just seems to human, and that it's considered rude for him to be eating at the table. While I usually completely neglect to chastise him for it even if it does happen, he knows well enough to stay away from food people are eating and to keep to himself. It breaks my heart, a little; I want him to feel comfortable here, too, despite how much he's voiced that he doesn't think it's going to happen. No one comments on my feeding him, though, which I'm grateful for.

"How's school going for you, Vivi-san?" Ukyo-san addresses me, and I choke on my food a little at his formality. "Yusuke's basically a lost cause by now, so we don't really know what's going on."

"Hey, I resent that," the guy in question snaps, jabbing his fork with speared sausage on it at his older brother, who glares in response.

"It's going well," I say, making sure I've swallowed my entire bite. "It's getting to be a bit busier, since we have tests before summer vacation." I feel my classmate wither beside me, and repress a snicker. "My grades are pretty average, so I've got some studying to do."

"That goes double for you, kid," I hear Tsubaki-san tease Yusuke-kun, who returns the sentiment with a rude gesture Masaomi-san very swiftly turns Wataru's head away from seeing. He's probably used to diverting the youngest's attention; he hadn't even looked away from his plate.

We make idle chatter throughout dinner, and there's a moment where it feels as though I step away from myself, examine the scene before me as a third party. The image I see, of myself smiling and laughing with a group of strangers who are now my family, is disorienting; I never thought that something like this was possible for me before. The only family I had besides my father were his parents, who we went to visit every summer, and it was just them; no aunts, no uncles, no cousins. There's personality in this home, liveliness that mine desperately lacked – and that I desperately wanted. It's true when they say that delicious food is better enjoyed with company; while this meal could be undoubtedly good on its own, it was so much better when I was surrounded with people that, let's face it, I'd have in my life for the remainder of it (that's looking at things positively, anyway). Juli doesn't even gripe at me during the meal; he can sense how happy I am just to be sitting there, surrounded by people, welcomed without a second thought.

When dinner is finished I help Ukyo-san clean up without having him ask me to; they'd treated me to dinner, and I felt as though I owed him as such. Not to mention that I wanted them to know that I am always available to help, that I will feel far more welcomed here if they just treat me like they treat each other and just pour expectations on me. They have a dish washer, naturally; they must have an insane amount of dishes to deal with every night, an amount no one should wash singlehandedly. I do scrub off the serving plates in the sink since they're too big to fit in there; the soap they use smells better than the one I had at Dad's house, like fresh cucumber and mint. It's astonishingly comforting to be in the kitchen with the sounds of running water and a rumbling dishwasher, laughter and voices and television audible from the other room. I recognized Tsubaki-san's and Yusuke-kun's voices hollering out above the rest, and Wataru giggling like a little boy has every right to. Iori-kun and Azusa-san remained at the dinner table, looking distinctly focused on papers and text in front of them, and when I make eye contact with the older one, he smiles kindly and sets his work down.

"I didn't mean to distract you," I say when he strides over and leans against the island separating the kitchen from the dining room.

"It's no trouble," he laughs easily, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. "I needed a break anyway to think about the script I'm working on. Want some help?"

Not need some help, but want, as if he knew I could handle it on my own but wanted to offer anyways. He has a dish towel in his hands before I can answer and is swiping them clean with an expertise that indicates he's done it several times before.

"Thank you," I say, hands buried in fresh-smelling suds.

He shakes his head, his hair flipping over to reveal his other eye concealed by it; I don't know why I figured something was wrong with it, but I was a bit surprised that it looked as normal as the other one. He's not a damn pirate. "I like cleaning. Tsubaki's messy enough that I'm always left to put his wave of destruction back together – it's not like I mind, though."

"I like it, too," I confess with a snicker. "There's something just so satisfying about watching something get completely rid of any clutter or grime to reveal something beautiful and neat underneath." I have to take a deep breath to calm myself down. "It gives me the chills, I swear. Nothing feels as good as having hard work pay off."

His smile is so wide that, startlingly, my breath catches. I return back to staring at the bubbles bursting from the sink, my hands submerged in water that's starting to get cold, and wonder what the hell that was about. "I completely agree. I'm glad to have someone around that doesn't mind it as much as I do."

I'm about to respond when his twin suddenly latches onto his back like a small mammal, whining in his ear about being lonely or some such without him. "Everyone's trying to hog you," he says to me, almost threateningly if not for the nefarious grin on his face. "I need to get my time with you, too – tell the others to buzz off."

"Settle down," Azusa-san says, brushing him off as if he weighs less than nothing. "If you actually bothered to clean up after yourself, maybe you could get more time together."

Tsubaki-san perks up, his eyes lighting up like fireworks shattering the darkness of the night sky. "Really?!"

"I dunno. Who can say."

"Don't be cruel to me, Azusa-chan!" I'm stuck trying to hold in hysterics as I watch two fully grown men fall all over each other, one whining like a child and the other like he's nearly dead inside from dealing with it so much. Juli rests on the island in front of me, lounging like a foreign queen on a chaise with palm leaves fanning her, and looks carefully guarded while trying not to be amused. Azusa-san regrettably gets dragged away before we can finish up, and Masaomi-san steps in to help me finish.

"I'm actually kind of relieved that you ended up being our new sister," he tells me after I finish rinsing all the remaining suds out of the sink. "Wataru really took a shine to you when we met. I'll be in your care from now on," he adds with a mellow, easy smile, extending his hand to me for another shake. I take it, his hand as cold as they had been when they'd touched my leg earlier – god, was that only just today? – and find that it's incredibly soft, his grip gentle and mine carefully so.

"Likewise," I say with a grin, and he reaches into his pocket to give me a lollipop. I wonder if he carries these things around everywhere he goes, but I like sweets enough that I figure it doesn't really matter and I just pop it into my mouth without question.

"You've got school tomorrow, yes?" He asks, and I nod, not wanting to remove the candy from my mouth. My hands had moved to my pockets without my notice, Juli curled around my neck like an ermine, and I extract them self-consciously, thinking that the gesture isn't too effeminate. "It's way past Wataru's bedtime; I let him stay up later tonight because of all the excitement."

"Sorry," I say, then realize I don't really have anything to apologize for. "I didn't mean to impose. I should probably be heading to my room, as well."

Masaomi-san beckons Wataru to his side, and Yusuke-kun joins me in heading to the elevator, needing to retire for the night judging from the exhausted look on his face. All my new brothers call out their goodnights to me, and the four of us gather in the elevator to engage in a ride that can only be described as bouncy, from the way Wataru is practically vibrating with glee. My stop is the first one, so when I'm saying goodnight and thank them again for having me, he throws his arms around my waist. I'd never been hugged by someone so small before; I'm not entirely sure what to do with my hands. I settle for laying one on his shoulder and the other on his head, and he needs to be practically ripped off of me by Masaomi-san, and I quickly realize it's because he'd actually fallen asleep holding me like that.

"Poor guy must be tuckered out," Yusuke-kun murmurs, looking almost impressed.

"Yes, I agree," the eldest responded with a soft laugh, then said goodnight to me just as softly. Yusuke-kun couldn't make eye contact with me when he mumbled out his parting words, but I didn't mind; I think we're actually getting on a lot better than before, which I know Juli's not entirely jonesed about.

I shuffle to my room, recalling that it's the first one down the horseshoe hallway, and pop open the door with my entire weight behind it. I felt entirely zapped of energy, no doubt a product of going on a wild ride of emotion and being out in the sun for so long. I turn the light on low – my switch serves as a dimmer – and I quickly remove my makeup, wash my face, and brush my teeth before tying my hair into a long braid that falls to my waist. I'm about to change into my pajamas when I suddenly get a bit self-conscious, and close over my curtains over the glass balcony doors before I take my bra and whatnot off, using the old strap off the shoulder then unbuckle trick, slipping it out from the bottom of my shirt and leaving it in a drawer.

I wonder how early I should get up tomorrow. I contemplate what time to set my alarm for as I shut off the main light and flick on my bedside lamp, and decide that earlier is better. Even though four people retiring for the night is typically a regular household's quiet time, I can still hear voices and laughter through my ceiling, as well as gentle footsteps and the hum of the television. I'm so used to nearly unbearable silence that I get the jitters as I lay in bed, listening to my new brothers argue over what channel to put on, someone snapping at another to get out of the bathroom already. I'm grinning so widely into the darkness, like a weirdo, that my face actually aches.

"Good night, Chii," Juli settles for saying, curling into a ball just to the side of my center pillow. "Be on your guard tomorrow. Quit letting them get so cozy!"

"Night, Juli," I sing, rolling onto my side. My fists are clenched tightly to my chest, as if I can hold in the explosive glee that I feel just by being here, in a new room where I can hear the soft chatter from upstairs like comforting whispers.

It's the first time in what feels like years that I fall asleep almost instantly, and that I'm looking forward to tomorrow and whatever it may bring.


	9. Tattoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After enjoying her first breakfast with her new family, Vivi heads to school with Yusuke and remembers that she has a very important appointment when school is over.

** Chapter Eight **

**_Tattoo_ **

****

            Whenever it’s not a weekday, my sleeping schedule is nothing short of severely fucked up. However, I like to think that my body is so anxious about getting to school on time no matter when I go to bed that it jolts me awake near the crack of dawn. I’d fallen asleep relatively early last night, so I don’t feel overly exhausted when I finally crack my eyes open, limbs sprawled apart, hair in tangles around my face. Juli’s nestled in the crook of my right leg, and I have to be careful not to crush him as I shift slightly and get more comfortable, wondering if I have time to sleep in a little bit.

            Out of habit I pat myself down dazedly just to make sure no part of me has turned into a cockroach spontaneously, traumatized from a story I’d read in middle school – a habit I really have to get out of, I’ll be an adult soon, for God’s sake. When I determine that my body is still soft and exoskeleton-free, I plant my legs on the ground, stretch, then have a panic attack because I have no idea where I am.

            The layout of the room is unfamiliar, though all the decorations undoubtedly belong to me, and there’s gentle sunlight streaming in through large glass doors leading out to a veranda. Conspiracy theories start running through my head, that I’d been kidnapped and they’d replicated all my furniture to lure me into a false sense of security, before I realize I’m a fucking spaz and I’d moved in with my new brothers yesterday.

            Immediately I start snickering at myself; I _would_ think something outrageous had happened. The adrenaline I’d felt begins to ease as the speed of my heartrate lessens to a more even rhythm, and I have to actually remain sitting and catch a breath for a few moments before I can start getting ready for the day. I don’t know if I feel like wearing makeup, so I check the weather to see how warm it is lest I sweat it all off, and decide that a little won’t hurt. I pin the hairs escaping from my braid away from my face in preparation to wash it and brush my teeth, then apply concealer, mascara, fill in my eyebrows and add the tiniest splash of blush as I’m sure my face will get red enough later today from the heat.

            A good part about having curly hair is that it’s more difficult to tell when it’s gotten to be particularly greasy; a bit of dry shampoo and no one can tell that I haven’t showered yesterday or today. After my uniform is on and hiding everything it needs to, I adjust my hair into its usual bun and determine that I’m ready for the day. Instead of waking up Juli I leave some of his food in a small dish on my desk for him, prepared for when he wakes up. I don’t want him to stay trapped in here all day, but I don’t know if my brothers will be too happy about a rodent running amok in their house. I figure if I get in trouble so be it, and leave my door slightly open so he can leave when he feels like it.

            I wonder if anyone’s awake yet; I imagine Yusuke-kun, Iori-kun, and Wataru-kun should at least be getting up soon for school, but I have no idea about the others. I’m praying that someone is and in the kitchen, since I’d feel a bit uncomfortable just helping myself to food without even asking, even though I live here now. I have no idea if anyone is saving anything, or what’s being used later on for dinner, so I’d rather not take the chance and just wait a bit longer until I get some breakfast.

            When I’m in the elevator, I realize it’s the first time I’m taking it by myself; I’d always been with one of my brothers each time I’d taken it before. It’s even more spacious now that I’m by myself, the metallic walls reflecting me on all sides to extend the space. I’m hit with a sudden bout of anxiety, signalled by my heart skipping a beat and speeding up in rhythm, still feeling estranged in my new home. I know it’s a feeling I have to get over quickly – the word family keeps repeating in my head, so I can get more used to it. I take a few deep breaths, filling up my chest until it’s painful, and letting it all out slowly. The elevator reaches the fifth floor and I’m stepping out before I can second-guess myself, eager to see one of my brothers.

            After descending the stairs from the loft, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Kaname-san and Subaru-san lounging in sweats on the couch, citrus sweat glistening in the sunlight streaming from the windows. They both have towels thrown around their necks and water bottles in their hands, chuckling quietly together. The stagnant aroma of miso broth streams from the kitchen with the popping sounds of a frying pan, and my chest flutters – that’s something I can’t remember waking up to in a very long time. Before I’m overcome with my feelings I greet my brothers on the couch, who glance up at my approach – Kaname-san with a warm grin and Subaru-san almost nervously.

            “Good morning, lil’ sis,” Kaname-san greets me as I stride closer to them. Subaru-san averts his eyes, his face flushed from the exercise I’m assuming they were doing. “Did you sleep well?”

            “Yes, very well, thank you,” I respond, a smile automatically lighting up my face. “What’s up with you guys this early?”

            “Just went out for a run.” Kaname-san nudges Subaru-san with his leg, stretched out along the couch, and encourages him: “Right, Suba-chan?”

            My brother in question clears his throat, nods quickly, and takes off. He brushes past me, grunting out a small greeting, and disappears behind the wall just beyond the elevator in the loft – most likely to take a shower, as I’d been told the main bathroom is that way. Kaname-san shrugs, almost helplessly, and is giving me an apologetic look. I don’t particularly understand why; it’s expected that I’d make someone feel uncomfortable here. I don’t blame Subaru-san for avoiding me – I was sure we’d get to know each other better eventually.

            “Good morning,” Ukyo-san calls to me from the kitchen, and I wave to Kaname-san before trotting over to him. “I’m glad to see another early riser.” Honestly, so am I. He’s decked out in another pressed button-down shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a pale green apron with grinning tabby cats stamped across the chest. I look at it appraisingly; it was honestly very cute, which took me by surprise.

            After I give him proper greetings, I glance around the kitchen to see what was cooking. There’s a lot of appliances spaced evenly and purposefully along the counter, including two rice cookers, pots and pans simmering on the stove, and the rich aroma steaming from the coffee brewer. “Can I help?” I ask him, determined to even if he neglected my offer; this is a lot of food to be cooking at once, and I wanted to show that I could be relied upon as a member of the household.

            “That would be wonderful,” he says, ultramarine eyes widening behind his glasses in surprise. “There’s a spare apron hanging in the cabinet beside the fridge.” I fetch it and tie it around my waist, and it’s wide enough I have to loop it around once. It’s bright pink, checkered, and adorable. He informs me on everything he’s prepping (besides the obvious), and asks me to help get the miso soup brewing. Ukyo-san is very efficient and specific when introducing me to the stainless steel kitchen, spacious length and width-wise, informing me of a very specific organization in which all food and ingredients are in. It’s pleasant to have everything laid so straightforwardly in front of me; I love to cook, and it makes me more comfortable to know where everything is. When I’m reaching in the appointed cupboard for the ingredients for the miso broth, a pale hand reaches toward me in my peripheral vision and takes hold of a strand of my hair.

            I jump back slightly, startled, to lock eyes with a languid, almost distant gaze comprised of an almost khaki colour. It startles me how beautiful they are, framed by deep brown lashes, with hair dusting across their forehead, a colour remarkably similar to mine. When I’m finally able to step back a bit and get a good look I find it is, as expected, another man, taller than I am and examining my hair with an almost evaluating quality. His is styled impeccably, softly curled and tied off in an artfully messy way to the side. I’m hit with a bout of envy; my hair fights me every time I try to do something nice with it. His skin is the colour of cream, unblemished and almost glowing, and even his clothing was stylish and trendy.

            “Your hair… what a pretty colour,” he murmurs, his voice almost an octave above a whisper, and it sounds sincere. I think his is much prettier – it almost has the slightest tinge of a pink hue to it, and it literally glistens in the sunlight.

            Nonetheless, I feel flattered, so I say, “Um, thank you.”

            “This is Louis,” Ukyo-san fills in for me, and my shoulders sag in relief – it felt uncomfortable to inquire about his identity. “The eighth son. He works as a professional hairdresser.” That explains the unexpected interested in my hair. To be told it looked pretty by a professional made the compliment that much more appreciated; no one had ever been that sincere about it before.

            “Nice to meet you,” I tell him, holding my hand out for a shake. “I’m Vivi, and I’ll be living here from now on.” Because that seems a bit rude and intrusive, I bow slightly when he slips his hand into mine. “Please take care of me.”

            “Likewise,” he says, bowing in return with a tender smile on his face. His eyes are slightly drooped, giving him a relaxed and languid appearance, and his quiet voice puts me at ease in this bustling environment. “Please, let me style your hair some time.”

            My heart skips a beat. “Oh, I’d love that! It’d be nice not to have to bully it into behaving.” He chuckles good-naturedly and examines me for one more moment, gaze kind and warm, before moving on to take a seat around the couch. The living room was a bit more busy now; I noticed Iori-kun’s slate hair, sitting with his back to me, and the twins sitting side-by-side, Tsubaki-san flicking through channels on the television.

            I continue prepping with Ukyo-san, adding ingredients to the broth while checking on the rice as he fried up what looked to be mackerel. He interrupts our steady, almost assembly line pace by adding casually, “Remember to use _katusuoboshi_ for the broth.” I curse under my breath; I’d used the crystallized version, admittedly the first one I’d laid my eyes on. I’d have to be more careful from now on and not take the easy way out; this is, naturally, different from the routine I’d been doing by myself for years.

            We finish whipping up breakfast after a few more minutes, and everyone had gathered to eat. Yusuke-kun was still yawning, his fiery hair sticking up in every direction. We set everything on the table, everyone’s settings of different colours and patterns. Mine is pale pink, the colour of a delicate seashell, and Ukyo-san startles me by apologizing. “I hated to appropriate it by your gender,” he confesses. “But I wasn’t sure what you’d like when I went shopping for them.”

            “No,” I refuse adamantly, immediately. “No, they’re lovely. Thank you very much; I’m glad you thought to get them at all.”

            His smile is warm and relieved. “Of course; you’re not just a guest here, after all.” Everyone takes their places at the table. Wataru-kun claims the spot beside me again, rubbing his eyes tiredly as he mutters ‘good morning’, and Yusuke-kun finds my other side. Across from us are the twins, Azusa-san eating in respectful silence while Tsubaki-san teases Yusuke-kun for looking like he lacked sleep. My attention is suddenly zeroed in on Azusa-san’s hands and the way they operated his chopsticks; it’s so graceful and sure, prim and proper. I look away before he can find me staring and focus on holding mine correctly so I don’t embarrass myself; I admittedly used silverware more often at my old home.

            “The miso’s great today,” Tsubaki-san says around a mouthful, and he swallows after receiving a glare from the honourable chef.

            “It really is,” his twin agrees, surprised. “Did you do something different?”

            Ukyo-san’s quiet for a moment, and I’m about to apologize for messing with the ingredients when he smiles brightly and says, “Vivi-san made it today.”

            “Not bad,” Subaru-san adds, one of the first coherent things I’d heard from him. My mood immediately brightens; I was relieved they didn’t mind the mistake, and seemed to appreciate it instead. I’d still rather do it the way Ukyo-san prefers from now on, though.

            Most of their attention is suddenly attracted to the television screen. One of those teen idols is performing on the screen, neon lights flashing off of his hair and stylish outfit, and I have to admit that his voice sounded genuinely pleasant. One of the things I have a hard time with when it came to identifying with people my age is what is trendy nowadays; as someone who is, admittedly, a historical nerd, I don’t pay much attention to the news or media. I wonder if he’s popular right now, and that thought is startled away when Wataru-kun cries, “It’s Fuu-chan!”

            Fuu-chan? That’s a cute name. I’m suddenly more invested in the program when Tsubaki-san makes a noise of disgust in the back of his throat between bites. “Ugh, look at that smile. I’ve never seen anything so fake.”

            “Be nice,” Masaomi-san chided him softly, seated next to Wataru-kun and wiping his face for him when he needed it.

            “That’s another one of your brothers,” Iori-kun informs me from the other side of the table. “Fuuto Asahina, though he goes by Asakura on stage.”

            I nearly choke. “One of your brothers is an idol?” I demand, my heartrate increasing in urgency. It seems so far away from the table we sat at now – I’m not just talking about the television. It feels strange to associate the personality on TV, sweat gleaming in the limelight as he performed for thousands of people, with the house and people surrounding me. I feel more intrusive than ever; I’m sitting in a celebrity’s house. Though, judging from the expressions on his brothers’ faces, that isn’t anything to be concerned about. I suppose that, surrounded by so many people with successful careers, he must have felt like he needed to do something – not to show them up, but more so not to fall behind. I’m feeling the pressure a bit myself, now, as I haven’t put any thought into what I’m going to do after high school besides the vague notion of  “college”.

            “He’s in Hokkaido right now,” Kaname-san adds, his portion almost completely gone. “We should call him up soon, see if he can bring some souvenirs home.” His gaze travels over to me, just as suggestive as it had been yesterday. “Any requests?”

            I’m not sure if he’s kidding or not, so I answer seriously, just in case. “No, thank you.” I accompany it with a smile, though I’m concerned about what will happen when I meet Fuuto-kun for the first time. He’ll be arriving home to find a stranger in his house and just be forced to deal with it; that doesn’t seem entirely fair. I nibble on my rice, listening intently when Masaomi-san tells me he’s only fifteen-years-old and has already made it so far into the entertainment world. His face is beaming with pride as he says it, strangely paternal, though I guess that’s to be expected from the eldest. He watched every man around me grow up from the time they were infants, his famous younger brother included. It was touching to see that he cared so deeply for his family, taking on a heavy role as the eldest. I have to restrain a hysterical bout of laughter when I immediately associate him as a father figure and Ukyo-san as the mother. It would have drawn attention, not to mention that Ukyo-san fulfilled the roles of any household member, not specifically a mother.

            The last ones to finish their breakfast are Wataru-kun and I, and even then I barely beat him in terms of time. Some of my brothers even grabbed seconds and finished first; I am very unused to the appetite of young men, when my father ate his fill and normally nothing more. A few of them are still growing, and even the older men seem to hold an intimidating amount of food in their stomachs. No wonder Ukyo-san had made so much; you can’t make just enough for everybody, but some more for extras on top of that. I shake my head in disbelief, confounded at the differences between us. I’m a glutton, myself, but I don’t ask for seconds as I figure it’s more important that the others get theirs instead of me.

            I glance at the electronic clock on the oven, and think it’s about time to go. I’ve never trekked to school from here before, so I had no ides what time I should leave at; I prefer to be early rather than late, however, so now seems as good a time as any. I help Subaru-san load the dishes, as it’s his turn this morning, and not a word comes from his mouth despite how I try to encourage it. I ask if and where he goes to school, and he mumbles out, “Meiji”, a university in Tokyo. I wonder what he goes there for, when he has to leave, and so forth, but I don’t want to pressure him to speak if he’s uncomfortable. His hair is only slightly damp from his earlier shower, having dried quickly thanks to its short length, and his mouth is screwed up like he ate something bad. Anxiety begins poisoning my blood, pumping into my heart faster and faster until the dishes are done and I thank him for doing it, just to be polite, and he looks confused and responds: “I should be thanking _you_. Nobody bothers helping with chores besides their own in the house. And… breakfast was really good.”

            He flushes a bit and directs his gaze elsewhere before muttering a thank you, then he takes off again. My pulse slows down, and I don’t feel like hyperventilating anymore; I’d been so worried that he hates me outright that it consumed my entire body for those brief moments. I’m relieved to think that, maybe, he’s merely just shy. Tsubaki-san had mentioned that he isn’t comfortable around women in the first place, let alone one that just intruded on his house. I feel bad for immediately assuming the worst case scenario is the correct one; if I can put confidence in anything, it’s that Miwa-san raised these men well, and I know this because my father would never marry someone who isn’t good to their core; that’s what he deserves.

            I smile after Subaru-san’s retreating form, and inform Ukyo-san that I’m going to start heading to school soon. After he nods and gives me his number should I need anything, I head downstairs quickly to get my supplies. Juli is awake now, and he’d remained in my room all that time, oddly inactive for him.

            “What’s wrong?” I ask. He hasn’t even touched his food. My brows furrow; I hope the new environment isn’t stressing him out too much.

            He gives me a cutting look, one that implied I should know. I suppose I do; I’d left him behind to ‘fraternize’ with my new brothers, unprotected and in his eyes, defenseless. I heave a sigh and smile as I gather my notebooks and writing utensils together, making sure my weekend homework is finished. “You’re honestly worrying too much. You think I would hesitate to fight back if something happened?”

            That makes _him_ hesitate. “Well, if it was anyone else, no. But you keep looking at them as family, and you wouldn’t harm them. Even if they think of you in a different way.”

            “You, sir Juli, have an overactive imagination.” I crack the balcony door open a touch to let him roam as he pleases; I know he’ll come back because he tells me he will, and I think it goes against his principles to leave a damsel such as myself in the hands of ravenous wolves.

            “I’ll be waiting right by the entrance when you get back,” he huffs. “I know you’ll be late today, so I won’t freak out, I promise. But I’m not leaving your side once you pass the threshold.” That sure sounds like not freaking out to me. I wonder what he means by me being late; I don’t remember having anything planned. I shrug to myself and give him a little kiss goodbye before heading out the door to return to the common room.            

            “Vivi-san,” Ukyo-san greets me when I come back.

            “You don’t have to be so formal,” I tell him honestly; it’s making me a bit nervous, as if there’s a huge wall between all of us even though we’re family now. It’s an idea I’m still struggling with, as well, but the more familiar we are, the easier it will be to overcome.

            He nods respectfully. “Of course. Masaomi-niisan already left, and I’m to give you his contact information as well.” After he completes the task given to him, he gets right back to business. “You should head off to school with Yusuke. It’ll make things easier if you just go together.” It will also draw attention, attention he certainly doesn’t want; we’d never gone to school together before, as we lived in opposite directions.

            As expected, my classmate is fuming. “That completely defeats the point of hiding that we’re l-l-living together!” I almost giggle at his stuttering; it’s cute.

            Ukyo-san’s forehead creases. “But she’s unfamiliar with the neighbourhood. Plus, if you leave with her now, you’ll be on time for once.”

            Yusuke-kun’s eye twitches, and before he can protest even further I grab hold of his arm, leaving him speechless and flushed. “We’ll just pretend we ran into each other, ‘kay? Thanks, Ukyo-san.”

            His brows are raised, almost as if he’s mildly taken aback. “You don’t have to be formal, either,” he tells me, and I smile as I wave goodbye. I take Yusuke-kun’s slack hand for good measure and wave it for him. I’m hauling him off to the lounge staircase before he can say anything about it; I’m strong enough he knows he can’t get away if he wants to.

            “I can walk by myself!” He snaps, sputtering and red. I just grin at him. “I still need to get my stuff!”

            “I’ll be waiting by the entrance,” I tell him, then something occurs to me. “Oh, we’ve never exchanged numbers, have we. Let’s do it now.” I’m holding out my phone expectantly, and he’s just staring at me, completely aghast, before he mechanically follows suit.

            “You’re bossy,” he grumbles as he steps into the elevator, rubbing the back of his head tenderly.   
            “When I want to be.” My smile is blinding as I follow him into the enclosed space, and I feel guilty for being so pushy when he takes a very obvious step away from me to put distance between us. I resist the urge to sigh. If there’s a problem, I hate avoiding it; I’d rather confront it directly and get rid of it to save time and needless agonizing. Hence why I’d just taken him from the room forcibly. I’m mulling over whether that was a bad decision when he gets off on the third floor and I’m continuing to the lobby, switching my shoes at the entrance.

            “Vivi-chan!” I hear someone sing behind me, and I look back just in time to see Azusa-san restrain his twin by the collar of his shirt before he can launch himself at me. “Leaving for school?” He chokes, and I snicker at the sight.

            “Yup, just waiting on Yusuke-kun,” I tell them, and it occurs to me that I may look standoffish standing with my back against the mailboxes, arms crossed over my chest. I relax them to my side and stand up properly.

            “We’re just heading off to a session,” Azusa-san tells me cheerfully, put-together even early in the morning.

            “I’d rather stay here with you all day,” Tsubaki-san tells me, very seriously.

            “Enough,” his twin sighs. “It’s good we caught you before you left. We wanted to give you our numbers.”

            My contact list is getting filled today, it seems; not that I mind. Tsubaki-san compliments my phone case when I whip it out, filled with liquid and blush pink sequins and glitter hearts. It’s the girliest thing I own and I laugh as I thank him. We’re making small talk, like about how if I’m ever in a hurry they can give me a ride to school, when Yusuke-kun joins me at the door. He clears his throat: “Ready to go?”

            He looks so awkward, his shoulders stiff and back slightly slouched, that I decide I do feel bad for pushing him around. “For sure,” I tell him, putting cheer into my voice. “See you guys later!”

            “Bye-bye, lil’ sis!” Tsubaki-san calls as we head in different directions – Yusuke-kun and I down the boardwalk to the entrance and them to the garage.

            “Have a good day,” Azusa-san tells us, and I wave at them like a maniac.

            Yusuke-kun doesn’t feel compelled to make conversation as we make our way to the train station. I don’t put on my sunglasses, even though I want to; I don’t want to seem like a diva or something. It is on the warmer side today, not boiling like yesterday, and I felt more encouraged to keep up a steady pace with him as his long legs carry him faster than me.

            “Will you tell Imai about us?” He asks suddenly, his tone sullen.

            I want to, but more than that, I want him to be comfortable around me. “Not if you don’t want me to,” I say, just imagining how Maho-chan will react regardless. She probably will make fun of us, albeit lightheartedly, so I understand his concern. I giggle to myself. “I’ve never had a secret like this before. It feels a bit fun, I think.”

            “It’s a pain,” he responds gruffly in return. My sunny mood dies immediately. “I mean, no, it’s not like _you’re_ a pain. It’s just being all sneaky about it.” We don’t have to be, but I don’t tell him that; he’d made it clear that he wants us being siblings to be hush-hush.

            The train ride continues much the same as the walk there had, silent and awkward. As it was prime time for people to commute to work, it was packed like a tin of sardines, leaving no space in between. I’m smushed right against one of the windows beside the sliding doors, and he stand right in front of me, his chest in my face and back fighting against the crowd. I try to keep myself from blushing; it is a bit embarrassing to have a guy that close to me, even if it has happened before. I can feel the strain of his body against the crush of people against my own, and just thinking about it makes me even more nervous. At least he’s much the same, a face as red as my own, and not only because it’s uncomfortably hot and suffocating in here.

            When we’re finally released from the ride of hell, I thank him for doing that regardless. “It was nice of you,” I tell him with a smile. “It was pretty rough today, huh?”

            “I wasn’t really helping you,” he mutters, looking away. “You just happened to be there.” _Sure._ If that’s what he wants me to believe, then I can comply.

            It turns out his worries were a bit well-founded – we were the victims of curious stares on our way to Hinode High. Yusuke-kun kept a very readable space between us, space that indicated there’s nothing between us and room to go anywhere we please. I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes; this seems a bit melodramatic to me. Do our classmates really have nothing better to do than make eyes at two of their own walking to school? It reminds me of when – _wait._ Suddenly I remember why Juli said I’d be late coming home.

            I turn to Yusuke-kun then. “I’ve got something to do after school, so I won’t be going home with you.” And because I felt it appropriate, I tack on, “Sorry.”

            He has enough honesty in him to look disappointed. His shoulders fall and brows slash down at the same time, then he mumbles, “It’s not like I was planning on it anyway. What are you getting up to?” When I hesitate he hurriedly adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I was just curious…”

            “No, it’s alright. I just have an appointment is all.” A potentially painful one. I’m glad I remembered to pack my wallet today; if I’d forgotten it like I do sometimes, I’d be a tad bit screwed.

            When we enter our classroom after switching our outdoor shoes for our indoor slippers, Maho-chan is by my side immediately while he continues on to his seat. She starts off with a topic we’re more familiar with before class and getting into the nitty-gritty stuff. “Are you ready for your appointment? My brother has a couple hours cleared, just for you.”

            I let out a relieved breath. “I totally forgot about until just now. I managed to remember my wallet though.” I wave it in front of her when we take our seats, mine near the back of the row and hers right in front of me. She looks just as relieved as I feel.

            “How you just forget an appointment for a tattoo is beyond me,” she mutters, leaning back against her desk. “It’s something that you’re going to have for, oh, just the rest of your life.”

            It’s why I hesitate when wearing short sleeves or pushing long ones up. Why I’m self-conscious in bikinis. Why I’m afraid that my brothers will think me some kind of delinquent. I’d been getting them since our first year of high school, at the beginning of the semester. Maho-chan had informed me that he brother worked as a tattoo artist, one that had been high in demand since he’d posted pictures of mine on Twitter and the like. I’d always wanted one, so like it was nothing, she’d taken me to his studio and he’d drawn something small and simple on me for my very first one; a thin cherry blossom branch on the inside of my arm, right under the crease of my elbow. I have quite a few now, as he gives me a small ‘friends and family’ discount, and most of them don’t cost too much as they tend to be on the smaller side and in black-and-white. My most expensive and time-consuming one was the dragon on the back of my neck, the design almost exactly like the one from _Spirited Away,_ with small, delicate storms of flowers swirling around it.

            Tsubaki-san had seen a touch of it yesterday, not fully comprehending that it wound down to the space between my shoulder blades. I want to make a good impression, but it won’t last long; they’re my family for life now, and they’re bound to see them some time. Maybe not so much the one on my ribs or hip, but that was besides the point. Whatever doesn’t go in my college fund from my job or birthday and new years money goes into the tattoo fund. I’d saved enough for the one I’m getting today, and it probably will take a bit of time, its pain scale nearing a six or seven out of ten.

            “I guess it’s because you have so many already,” Maho-chan continues. She’s aware that, while our school is pretty lenient with most policies like hair and makeup, tattoos are still a no-no. It’s not like they can make you remove them, obviously, but it doesn’t reflect well on its image. Hence why I always wear jerseys in gym, even when it’s hot, and keep my sleeves on the longer side. “Enough about that.” Now she leans conspiratorially across the desk to waggle her brows. “Tell me how it went!”

            “Thirteen wasn’t an exaggeration,” I begin, shaking my head in mystification. “There’s so many of them, and the house is so massive, that it blows my mind. They’re all very nice, though.”

            “Good-looking?”

            At least she keeps her priorities straight. I roll my eyes as I say, “Very. I’m not surprised, though; Miwa-san looks like a supermodel herself.” I continue to explain the experience to her, from meeting most of them to dinner and my room, and she looks completely enraptured. The only reason I stop is because our teacher enters the room and begins the lesson after we exchange greetings.

            Throughout class I can feel Yusuke-kun’s stare on the side of my neck. A few times I turn and smile at him, and he immediately buries his face in his book. I wonder if he thinks I’d told Maho-chan after I’d told him I wouldn’t – I don’t suppose I can blame him, since there’s never been a reason for him to put so much trust in me before. He even avoids eye-contact during lunch with Sasakura-kun, popping in from his own class, and Maho-chan. This is going to get tiresome very quickly. I start hatching a plan to ambush him when I get home, and I realize it’s become less of a courtesy or natural occurrence to befriend him than a mission to me.

            After lunch is over and we assume our designated seats, Sasakura-kun trudging back to his own class, the girl who sits between Yusuke-kun and I with lovely dark skin makes a face. “He’s been staring at me all day,” Erika complains, and I stifle a snicker. So he hadn’t been staring at me, then. This is a both a relief and a disappointment; it seems he’s doing everything in his power not to look right at me, like I’m Medusa or something.

            “Any idea why?” I ask, leaning closer to her across the aisle. “Maybe you’ve got something stuck in your hair.” I indicate her wild dark hair hedging on being an afro, and she turns to let me check. There is a fluff in it, most likely from dandelions letting their seeds loose outside, but it’s buried in there; I don’t think it warrants that much of Yusuke-kun’s attention. She thanks me and beams, settling back into her own seat as class begins again.

            When class is over I go up to Yusuke-kun before Maho-chan and I make off to her brother’s studio and whisper, “See you at home,” with a genuine smile. He stutters through an affirmation, his cheeks reddening, then Maho-chan and I are out of the classroom and practically speed-walking down to the lockers.

            “How big?” She asks me. I give her a measurement of the fully stretched space between my thumb and forefinger. She quirks her tiny brows, impressed. “That’s your second biggest one, yeah?”

            I nod as we exit the building and make quick work of heading into the more bustling part of the city near the school. The sun is being merciless later in the day, its rays digging into my back and the top of my head, and I slip on my sunglasses; I hesitated with Yusuke-kun because of how big and over-the-top they are, mirrored and the shades of an oil slick in different lights, with geometric designs around the frames. I don’t mind the school’s designated loafers, but I’d prefer wearing runners when walking fast like this, or at least slip-ons. I can’t push up my sleeves because I’m wearing my uniform in public; it may look suspicious in the first place to see two high-school girls walking into a tattoo parlor, but my sleeve was going to cover this one, so it’s not like it would be noticeable.

            I continue to fill Maho-chan in on my experience with my brothers, with the smaller details like how the house smells and Iori-kun giving me a tour of the neighbourhood and having a surprisingly dark sense of humor for such a princely face. She seems very interested in hearing more about him. “He goes to Bright Centrair? Damn, these people really are posh.”

            “It’s not in a bad way,” I say with a smile. “I can’t wait to get to know them better and eat Ukyo-san’s cooking for dinner; breakfast was delicious this morning.”

            We reach her brother’s place then, the door chiming cheerfully as we step inside. It’s nice and air-conditioned inside, and I let out a long stretch, letting the coolness sweep over as much of my body as I can. It smells a bit like incense in here, with the walls decorated with photos of tattooed women and men, lush forests and fields (as he specialized in nature pieces), and a touch of edginess with cow skulls and even a pet snake curling in its tank in the back (Run-chan). Izumi Imai steps out from his small office to the front counter, made of charming stained wood that was artfully mismatched, and flashed a winning smile at us. “Hey, beautiful. And brat,” he adds, directed at his sister. She mimes throwing a punch at his arm, neglect to actually do so in his place of business.

            You can see a family resemblance between the two; he has the same eyebrows and hair colour, though his is shot through with streaks of black. His own arms are close to covered with ink, a few piercings adorning his ear. Every time I see him he’s wearing black, as he is today, and I wonder how he can stand it in the heat. Despite the roughness of his appearance, he has the same open baby face as his sister, with those doe-eyes and long lashes. “Come on in,” he says to us, gesturing to the back. “I’ve missed my favourite customer. Just couldn’t stay away from me for long, huh?”

            He always teases me like that when I come around, mostly just to piss Maho-chan off, so I roll my eyes for what feels like the nth time that day. “You know it. I’ve been looking forward to this one.” Despite forgetting about it. _Real smooth, Vivi._

I settle myself into the plush, cushioned adjustable chair as he begins tracing over his sketch to transfer to my arm. I take off my cardigan to reveal my white blouse underneath and roll up my sleeves to my elbows; you can see the two I have on my wrists, a small crescent moon on one and a trio of lilies on the other, as well as the branch on my arm and the Kusanagi blade just below my elbow (which is a bit of a long story, admittedly). He places the ink on my arm to form a crane extending its wing over a watercoloured flame, the words “la temperanza” in small, English cursive underneath. Maho-chan lets out a whistle. “That’s going to be gorgeous. Do a good job, aniki.”

            Izumi-san huffs, insulted. “Obviously. I love this piece, too.” He holds my gaze as he says that, and I say something along the lines of how jazzed I am. His mouth quirks into a smile before he applies a fresh needle to his gun, gets his cleaning supplies, and gloves. Another artists takes someone into their studio closer to the back, and Maho-chan and I smile cordially. Then her elder brother by six years gets to work, stretching my arm across a stool so he can access the back of it.

            It doesn’t sting as much as the first few did, and the location isn’t that sensitive either. As Maho-chan and I talk about finals and how she would literally rather die than study, her brother seconding that, my eyes travel around his studio. There are some caricatures, his own art on a sketching board, mostly revolving around plants and animals and even mythological creatures. Music streams quietly from his laptop stationed on his desk, and the snake across the hall seems to be swaying to the beat. She’s beautiful, her scales a milky white colour and eyes black and glittering. I coo at her from my seat and Maho-chan chews me out for talking to it like a baby; I may be able to understand the squirrel, but that doesn’t mean I can talk to other animals.

            As Izumi-san’s needle inches closer to my wrist, it starts to sting more. But I don’t flinch and keep my arm relaxed to make it easier for him. I realize that I’m quite hungry, despite having lunch a couple hours ago; I hope Ukyo-san has started dinner by the time I get home so I can get right to helping and eat.  It occurs to me I don’t exactly know the way home from here, but so long as I can get to the station, I’ll be fine. And if worse comes to worse I’ll just ask one of my brothers to meet me there.

            After about an hour or so, Izumi-san finishes and lets me examine his newest piece in the mirror. It’s as gorgeous and regal as he’d said it would be, the crane’s wing long and delicate as its neck, the flame a mixture of reds faded by water with blue raindrops dotting down the middle.

            “It’s beautiful,” I tell him, and thank him reverently. He’s examining his own work, seeing if there’s anything he wants to touch up, then he glances over to where I’d been sitting and heaves a blissful sigh. “What?”

            “My favourite part about tattooing you,” he begins dramatically, his voice deep and fervent, “is that there’s always a perfect imprint of your butt on the chair when we finish.”

            This time Maho-chan does deliver a good swat over his head, even though she has to stretch to do it. He wraps up my newest piece in a thin layer of gauze, repeats the care instructions he has ten times before (policy), and I pay him what I owe aside from my earlier deposit. “Come around when it’s healed so I can post a picture of it,” he says, still admiring his work.

            “Absolutely.” I thank him again, immensely grateful for the beautiful work, so much that Maho-chan has to push me out the door. She’s walking me to the station, and when I say I feel bad about her returning alone, she waves me off.

            “Do you think anyone would mess with these brows?” She demands, perking them threateningly. “They could cut a bitch.” That makes me laugh so hard I cry a little. Strenuous movement makes my arm feel even more so, the gauze uncomfortable underneath my shirt and being shoved so close to my skin.

            Evening is cast over the city, splashes of red and pink on the horizon. That makes it just a touch cooler, and I don’t shove on my sunglasses on the way home this time. When I look at the crowd waiting for the train as Maho-chan and I briefly hug goodbye, I suddenly find myself wishing that I’d gone home with Yusuke-kun after all. Not so he could shove against the masses, but just to be together in solidarity.

            I flush to myself as I wait in line to enter the sliding doors. Just one day with them has made me feel so spoiled and selfish. But… I can’t say that it’s a bad thing. I’m eager to get home and see everyone again, my heart soaring as the train flies through the city, and wonder when I’ll feel comfortable enough to show them everything about me without fear of being judged.


	10. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi continues to bond with her brothers during her second night at the Asahina house, though it dredges up some unpleasant memories for her.

** Chapter Nine **

**_Memory_ **

            Just as my train ride home is ending, my headphones kept out of my ears for once so I could have some silent contemplation, my phone buzzes to indicate I have a text message. I’m a bit surprised to see it’s from Ukyo-san: _Good evening. Yusuke informed me that you have an appointment and would be home a bit later than him. Please inform me when you arrive at the station. Regards, Ukyo._

            My throat closes up. I’d never received a message like that before. Just another reminder that there are people actually waiting for me at home, something I’ve not experienced since I was little. I fire a quick text back that the train is just pulling in, and receive another surprise when he tells me to wait, someone’s coming to escort me home.

            This makes me a bit uncomfortable. I don’t want someone coming all the way here just to take me back; I’m sure they all have things to do. However, I also don’t want to disobey him. Besides, he’s most likely just doing it out of concern for me; I’m still not absolutely certain of the way home from here, and the sky is beginning to darken. In all honesty I will feel a lot safer having someone with me.

            I haven’t waited for very long when I see a familiar figure weaving through the crowd, distinguishable by his amazing hair. The style momentarily gives me pause, because even though the colour is on the opposite side of the spectrum, it still makes my heart stop in my chest as it reminds me of someone else. I quickly shake the feeling away just as Louis-san sees me in the crowd and flashes me a familiar, if not languid, smile.

            “I came to get you,” he states in that low, gentle voice of his. He’d removed his strikingly blue cardigan from earlier and was left in a very low-cut black shirt with a white undershirt concealing anything that would make the look obscene.

            “Thank you,” I say. I’m a bit surprised that he recognized me immediately; we’d only met once. Though I suppose I do stand out a bit from the rest of the crowd – it’s probably the hair. “Sorry if I kept you waiting.”

            “Let’s just go?” I’m not sure what to make of that response, but I don’t think he’s angry. He weaves through the crowd with an almost ninja-like stealth and security, the complete opposite of his lethargic disposition. Someone bumps into my shoulder accidentally, and when I turn back to apologize, they’re holding their arm as if they’ve bumped into a rock. I flush with embarrassment and carry on.

            Louis-san leads me to a white range rover and walks around to the passenger side to hold the door open for me, seemingly oblivious of my grimace. A very ostentatious vehicle, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. It smells distinctly of the upholstered leather, and then faintly of Louis-san’s cologne when he slides in the driver’s seat. He slips out of his parking space and shifts into drive so smoothly I swear it sends my heart aflutter. The air is on full-blast, cooling down my warm face and sweat enough that my armpits are chilled.

            “Is it too cold?” He asks, automatically reaching to turn it down a bit. “I’m sensitive to the heat, so I always have the air on high.”

            “So am I,” I respond with a small laugh. “I don’t mind. It’s been pretty bad lately, huh?” Honestly, it’s hot enough that I would have preferred to lapse into a comfortable silence, but my arm has started throbbing with the after-pain of having a needle dragged relentlessly through my skin – I’m trying to keep up a conversation to distract from the pain.

            “Yes,” he agrees, swiftly flipping on his signal to turn at a stoplight. “I bet your little friend isn’t too happy with it, either.”

            I assume he’s referring to my rodent companion. “I don’t think it bothers him too much,” I say. “He stays inside most of the time; he knows to stay where it’s cool.”

            “He must be very smart.” His grin at the moment is a bit wry, for some reason, as if we’re sharing some unspoken joke. I tilt my head to the side curiously but let it slide; it may be too idiosyncratic for me to understand. Besides, it’s not like I can tell him that Juli is completely sentient (to me, anyway) and isn’t the slightest bit tempted to venture outside too often, since he does disturbingly human activities inside. Once he’d told me he’d been _reading_ ; it doesn’t really matter what, because just that is weird in itself. It means that he was looking at the words, understanding them, _processing them_ – it baffles me so much I can’t think about it without automatically getting a migraine.        

            “He _is_ smart,” I settle for, playing dumb. “I mean, I don’t know the standard for rodent intelligence but I think he’s pretty high on the spectrum.”

            He snickers, his eyes crinkling at the corners in such a genuine way that I can’t help but giggling along. I recognize the street we’re on, indicating we’re almost there, and I quickly realize he’s pulling in the back - where the garage (or whatever they have) must be. I’ve yet to see it, and I’m inspecting curiously out the window to find that it’s pretty cozy; just a simple yard and deck, complete with an outdoor dining set and gazebo. Someone had gone to the effort to string up cute little lightbulbs that probably look stunning at nighttime. Louis-san pulls into the confirmed garage, which is pretty standard according to a garage expert like myself, except the size is in an equal ratio to the mansion; meaning, it’s big. When the range rover pulls in there’s a total of five vehicles, two of them hopefully belonging to the other tenants, three to the Asahinas. There are two larger vehicles, including the rover, with ample seating, and one black sedan that reflects the sunlight in blinding beams from the back fender – it’s completely spotless.

Louis-san shuts off the vehicle with a quick turn of the keys and gets out in a rush that leaves me a bit speechless. Had I done something wrong? Had I unwittingly said something offensive? I mull over it in the still-cool interior until my door opens without my touching it and I think I’ve turned psychic. Then I realize – he had gotten out so quickly to open it for me. The ice that had quickly formed in my heart immediately melts, both in relief and in what must be flattery. I thank him as I climb out, having to jump a little from the high seat. My knees buckle, not because of the jump but because my legs just hate me and behave like an eighty-year-old woman’s sometimes, and I’m grateful he’s looking away so he can’t see me wince and crack back up into a standing position. I use a delicate touch when closing the car door as he operates a switch to close the garage from the outside, as I’m afraid of slamming it too hard just by accident. Then it hits me; if all the cars are here, is everyone home? My heart flutters, excited to see everyone.

            He leads me through a door that opens to a hallway that makes a roundabout to the front lobby-space, where the elevator is. I wonder who turns off all these lights at nighttime. I decide that if I want to know, I should ask.

            “We have security here,” he responds, and I’m momentarily taken aback. “Since we do have some pretty famous people living here, like Fuu-chan and the twins. Mom herself isn’t exactly a little-known designer; there’s a reason she travels so much.” He pauses for a moment, and I’m thinking about that’s the most I’ve heard him say at one time since we’ve met. He speaks at an even pace with his soft voice, and it’s very soothing to listen to. “They turn the lights off most of the time, but if someone’s out late enough they will.”

            “I see.” I make a note that if I’m out late, I should figure out where the switches are so I can do it myself. “Were you at work today?”

            “Yes, I was on my way home when Kyo-nii asked me to pick you up. It was on the way.” He turns to me to flash a dazzling, relaxed smile. “So don’t worry about whether or not it was an inconvenience. I didn’t mind in the slightest.”

            I flush and nod. Just because I’m a member of the household doesn’t mean I’m happy imposing on them. He had figured out my worries and dispelled them just as quickly, and it makes me glad to know that he cares enough to ease them.

            Suddenly he says, “You didn’t get your hair from your father.”

            I’m not paying very much attention, just examining him, so I snap my head up and ask, “Pardon?”

            “Rintaro-san has come here before, to introduce himself.” There’s a thoughtful pause as we reach the elevator and he pushes the up button. “Your hair is very different, both colour and texture.” Our colours are closer together under the fluorescents, his a light ash brown and mine more ash blonde. “Did you get it from your mother?”

            “I’m not sure, but I’m assuming so. She died giving birth to me, and Dad doesn’t keep any pictures of her.” I’d always thought it was because it was too painful for him to look at her, and maybe it was painful to look at me, too, since I clearly take more after her. But he fell in love with Miwa-san over a year ago, so I’ve come to wonder if that was really the case. “So I can’t say for sure.”

            He’s examining me with an unfathomable look, maybe a bit sad. “Do you miss her?”

            “I never met her. Can you miss someone when you don’t even know who they are?”

            The elevator dings as it reaches our floor. “I think so,” he says quietly as we walk in and he presses the five. “At least, you know that there is something missing. You can long for a maternal presence if you’ve never had it and you’re exposed to other kids with them, I think.”

            “That’s true. There’s been a few times when I’ve thought my life would be easier with a mom.” I smile at him so he can rest assured that it doesn’t bother me at all, talking about something that he may regard as pretty personal. “But I have Juli and Dad. I’ve never felt like something was lacking with them around, and they love me enough that I barely ever notice I’m missing out on having a mother.”

            “I’m glad. I feel the same way about our father.” I remember that Miwa-san mentioned that her husband passed around the time Wataru-kun was born. Unlike me, Louis-san and almost all of my brothers would have known him enough to feel his loss and miss him terribly. It’s not that big of a deal for my father to get remarried, but maybe it means something much more to them to have their mother marry again.

            “Do you miss him?” I ask in return, hoping I’m not prying.

            His smile only turns a bit melancholy. “Sometimes. He was a good dad.” The impact of their situation hits me with even more intensity. What if my presence here really is hurtful to them, even if they’re very good people and can hide it well? It can just serve as a reminder that their mother is ready to start again, even if they’re not.

            It’s insensitive of me to stay here, not only because they have one more mouth to feed or be considerate of me being a girl, but because I’m a constant symbol of their father’s death and how they’ll never see him again. My flush deepens with shame. I hadn’t thought about it at all before; how could I just completely ignore that when they’re being so _nice_ to me? I have a… bad history of not considering other people’s feelings. You’d think I would have learned.

            We arrive to the fifth floor and I have to put on my brave face. Honesty and expressing one’s feelings are one of the most important things when communicating, but this is something I want to fight with myself about more before I go asking about it. I can smell dinner from the loft and I get incredibly excited; breakfast had been awesome, but I’m eager to try Ukyo-san’s dinner. When we descend the stairs to greet everyone, I see that Masaomi-san and Subaru-san are absent from the scene; most likely still working. Yuusuke-kun looks relieved to see me, as if he’d been worried about leaving me by myself. Then he quickly looks away, blushing the same colour as the evening sky.

            “I’ll get changed and be right back,” I say to Ukyo-san, who’s basically finished preparing dinner by himself. I feel guilty that I wasn’t around to help.

            “No rush,” he says with a smile befitting his regal features. “We’re still waiting on the rice, regardless. Tsubaki’s not exactly efficient when it comes to helping make dinner.” That shakes a bit of the guilt away; at least he hadn’t been completely working alone. I know he’s a grown man and can handle it by himself, as he’s probably been making huge portions for meals for years, but I still wish I can help.

            “I couldn’t help it,” the brother in question complains, sliding to my side so smoothly I’m impressed. “I was too distracted about seeing Vivi-chan again I couldn’t focus.”

            I can’t help but roll my eyes, but I keep the smile on my face to show that I’m not actually irritated by him. “ _Sure._ I’ll be back in a jiff.”

            “Need my help?” Tsubaki-san asks, but is quickly halted in his tracks by a swift knock to the head from his expressionless twin.

            I almost put on a short-sleeved shirt, but as I’m pulling it from the closet the mondo bandage on my arm reminds me that it’s not a good idea. I count out the time in my head; about three or so hours before I can take it off. Then I have to rinse it with a gentle soap and apply ointment. I’m already dreading the itchy stage, and I’m gently pulling a striped shirt down my arms so as not to disrupt the bandage. I can put on shorts, but I’ll have to wear socks, since I have some ankle action going on. It’s funny how I manage to become significantly more conscious of the amount of tattoos I have when I’m meeting new people who aren’t even able to see them. I don’t think they’ll judge me because of them, but… there’s still a stereotype around young girls having tattoos that make me wary of exposing them. A ridiculous, dated stereotype, since I can do whatever I want with my body, but it exists all the same.

            I’ll keep my hair up since I don’t want to get it in my food – a mistake I think won’t happen ever again because I’ll be extra careful, but still happens every time. I freeze when I feel a stare burning holes in the back of my neck, and turn around to see Juli staring at me in silence, like a father, sitting in the dark, waiting to lecture their child after they’ve broken curfew.

            “Hey,” I greet him cheerfully. “How was your day here? Go outside at all?”

            “Lemme see,” he says. I sigh and roll up my sleeve, gently lifting the bandage a bit to show him. “It’s big,” is all he says.

            “Not as big as Zora,” I respond simply after fixing the bandage. I named all of my tattoos that feature animals – Zora being the dragon. Both a game reference and from my given name’s language of origin.

            “What’s this one’s name?” He crawls on my shoulder; apparently I’ve been forgiven from the brief moody spell earlier. His face still looks sullen, though – as sullen as a squirrel can look.

            “I haven’t decided yet.” I browse the internet for ideas from my phone in the elevator, and decide just before I reach the fifth floor. “I like Deirdre. I read a book once where Lilith named one of her daughters that.”

            “Morbid, Chii. I don’t think Maho will be too jazzed to hear that.” Maho-chan is my polar opposite in that she isn’t a fan of horror and the occult. I don’t try to force her to watch movies in that genre with me, but she always does, boasting that she’s going to concur her fear. Every time she ends up sleeping in the same bed as me when it happens, shoving me over so that she’s against the wall and I’ll be taken first if an entity breaks into the room. Nice.

            Tonight I’m seated between Kaname-san and Ukyo-san, the former smelling of a spicy cologne that I like the scent of who is dressed in red plaid flannel. It compliments his hair colour nicely, and I’m struck by the thought that everyone has good fashion sense, complete with accessories and semi-formal elements. Which I suppose is to be expected, as children of a fashion designer.

            Dinner is chicken gratin, and I’m screaming internally. Some of it escapes my mouth in small squeals, and Ukyo-san beams at the sound of it. There’s rice with soy sauce and a simple cucumber salad on the side, but the gratin itself is to die for. It’s just the right amount of crispy and the cheese is perfectly melted so that when you pick up a piece a small string of it clings to your fork. Subaru-san returns just in time for a quick shower, and he sits to grab his own serving just as everyone but me is finishing up. He’d bought soda from the convenience store, and offered me a Pepsi by holding it out to me with an inquisitive look that he didn’t look directly at me with. I take it and thank him, and he just nods curtly in response and inhales his portion. We finish around the same time despite the fact that I’d started much sooner.

            I offer to help with the dishes, but Ukyo-san introduces me to a chart with different coloured circle stickers on the wall next to the refrigerator. The different weekdays and chores are listed in columns and rows, and he explains that each colour corresponds with one of them. “Who’s on dishes tonight?” He quizzes me, hanging his apron in the closet.

            I examine it for a moment. “Iori-kun,” and he nods.

            “Very good. We do give the younger ones a break around exam season, so that will include you, as well.” He lifts a package of said stickers so slowly, so ominously that I have to restrain a laugh. He looks so excited about his stickers that it’s borderline adorable. “Which colour would you like?” He asks quietly, and I’m smiling so hard with unheard laughter I can _feel_ my dimples popping out.

            “I’ll just take white,” I squeak out, and he nods very seriously before coordinating the chores for next week with me. He asks what chores I’d like to do, and I respond that I’m really fine with anything; I did it all at my old house. Laundry is my favourite, though. He organizes so that I split laundry this week with Tsubaki-san, as he’s pretty unreliable with chores. I remember Azusa-san saying how he always finds himself cleaning up after his twin and I know he’s not exaggerating.

            When that’s done I don’t feel like returning to my room, but hanging out with everyone. Juli is vibrating with growls when I ask Yuusuke-kun if I can watch television with them on the crimson sectional, and he very gruffly responds with: “Knock yourself out.” I take a seat, delicately, with my knees pressed together and feet on the floor, and rest my drink on a coaster. Iori-kun nestles beside me, keeping a respectable distance between us, but I still have to shush my squirrel from hissing.

            “I wanted to show you this,” he says, and holds up his phone to show me a video of a child trying to scare his father then getting a bag of trash in his face. I do a spittake into my hand and start crying, mumbling out the F-word as Iori-kun laughs at me. Twisted sense of humor, indeed. Yuusuke-kun is laughing boisterously, because this happens a lot at school on our lunch break, and any more bystanders are chuckling – with the exception of Tsubaki-san, who had been peering over the couch to catch a glimpse and was on the floor asphyxiating. Azusa-san hands me a napkin and I choke out a thank you before cleaning up the mess. I’m upset about losing some of my Pepsi, but I honestly couldn’t help it; I know I still would have spit it out if I saw that by myself. But it was made worse by the princely Iori-kun showing it to me, whose face is still gentle and full of soft humor while mine is red and blotchy from choking and laughing.

            Juli is hardly as impressed. He asks me what’s so funny about that, and I can’t describe it to him since we’re in the presence of company, so I just wave a little in front of my face and try not to keep laughing. Wataru-kun is visibly distressed from not knowing what all the fuss is about, and it’s not like it’s mature content or anything sensitive, so Iori-kun shows it to him as well. He does laugh, though I can tell he doesn’t really understand why it’s funny; he just wants to be in on the joke.

            After I’m finally breathing right again and everyone’s regained their composure, Iori-kun moves on to do the dishes. Even though it’s his job and I just had this conversation, I ask, “Can I help?”

            “Don’t worry about it,” he says with a disarming grin that makes my heartrate increase – just a little. “Just relax.”

            “Yeah, Vivi-chan.” Tsubaki-san is suddenly sitting beside me, his arm thrown over the back of the couch on my side. “Spend some more time with us.”

            “Do you want to watch Fuu-tan’s concert recording?” Wataru-kun asks excitedly, already waving the television remote like a flag of victory.   
            Tsubaki-san and Yusuke-kun make an identical face. “No.” Their youngest brother looks incredibly disheartened, so much so that I can’t help but feel bad for him. I’m about to offer to watch it with him regardless, because I am curious about my other younger brother, when Yusuke-kun says, “Let’s play some games instead.”

            He perks up immediately. “Yes! I’ll show Onee-chan how it’s done!”

            “I’m looking forward to it,” I say, trying to come up with a subtle and not-whiny way of asking if I can join the playing as well. They decide on Mario Kart, and play around which Wataru-kun obliterates my classmate in. He’s yelling in frustration whilst physically turning his body in the same direction as his remote, as if that will add more power to his vehicle. I can’t help but laugh because I do it exactly the same way without consciously deciding to do so. After his defeat, however, Ukyo-san pulls Wataru-kun away for his bedtime. I wish him good night, and he throws his arms around my waist. I’m surprised, but not uncomfortable; his frame is small and solid when I return the hug, and I try to remember if I’ve ever been this close to a kid before.

            “Can I play?” I ask Yusuke-kun, deciding on the direct approach as I sit cross-legged on the floor beside him. I know I’ll be uncomfortable in a matter of moments, since the hardwood is… well, hard, but I don’t particularly mind. He’s avoiding eye-contact with me, though, and I suppose that the awkwardness of the situation isn’t lost on him yet.  It isn’t on me, either, but I don’t want to be dodgy about it so that it will be harder to act like family in the future. I’m happy to be here, even if my presence has consequences.

            He passes me Wataru-kun’s controller, and the next thing I know Tsubaki-san is beside me and grabbing a third. “Let me in on this mess,” he says, nudging me in the side. “I’ll kick both of you to the curb.” Why does everyone in this family smell amazing? It’s making me self-conscious, after being in the sun for a while and sweating from the strain of trying not to move during the tattooing. I am, however, not one to refuse a challenge.

            I really want to know what we look like from behind. All of us turning with our controllers in unison when trying to drift must have been a sight to see, considering how old we are (Tsubaki-san being our elder by seven years). He nails me with a blue shell and I can’t help but kick my feet a little in frustration. I push him off Rainbow Road and earn the title of Savage for the night.

            Yusuke-kun ends up winning the overall race, Tsubaki-san in second, me in third. I’m at least thankful I wasn’t done in by a CPU – that would have been embarrassing. Yusuke-kun looks so mighty proud of himself and turns to me expectantly. “Well? Are you jealous of my skills?”

            “I call foul play,” his elder brother complains, dropping the controller and leaning back on his arms while stretching out his legs – basically he’s lying on the floor. “I have poor vision!”

            “Uh, no, that’s me,” calls Azusa-san from the couch, shaking his head as he puts a glass to his lips. The colour of the drink makes me think it’s probably bourbon. Fancy.

            “I took my contacts out before playing.”

            “You’re so full of shit,” Yusuke-kun growls. “Why the hell would you think that was smart even if it was true?”

            “I wanted Vivi-chan to look into my eyes,” he gushes, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me so hard I giggle. “Into my _soul._ ”

            “Cut it out,” my classmate snaps, tugging me away from him. This is unbelievable – I actually feel like a toy caught between two toddlers. Tsubaki-san takes my forearm and is shocked to hear me belt out: “ _Bitch!_ ” I immediately regret my entire life and apologize – that arm is sensitive right now, but it was still an overreaction. I’m relieved when they start snickering, and eventually the room is filled with warm laughter.

            “Did you get a shot or something today?” Kaname-san asks, a seemingly harmless grin on his face. I hadn’t even seen him sitting there, but he had a drink in his hand as well. It must be time for all the adults to unwind for the night – even Tsubaki-san had a beer sitting beside him. It makes me feel a bit too childish, like I’m intruding by hanging around them. Normally I drink with people my own age, so there’s a good excuse to be stupid. This is mature drinking – it’s different.

            “A needle, yeah,” I say. It’s not a lie, and I think I’m so clever. Juli, not so much. I’d been keeping him clenched between my legs during the previous tug-of-war so that I wouldn’t have a third faction pulling at me from somewhere else, most likely my hair. It was either that or he would have gone after one of them instead, so I would have preferred the former. This did seem like the safest bet.

            I find Tsubaki-san’s eyes wandering to him. His gaze is disarmingly serious, and even Yusuke-kun is suspicious. All he ends up saying, wistfully, is, “Jealous.” I blush, scandalized. Juli turns into a demon and shrieks in a way no animal, human or otherwise, should be capable of.

            “That’s enough.” Azusa-san hauls him off the floor and plops him at his side on the couch. “Do you want me to cut you off?”

            “No, sir,” his twin sings, crossing one leg over the other with a very pleased grin on his face. I guess I should get used to that flirtatious behaviour – it sounds like Azusa-san holding him back from taking a joke too far is a common occurrence, so this flirting is certainly not exclusive to me. I want to tell Juli so, but I’m not sure if that will make the situation better or worse.

            I check the time on my phone, and figure it best that I retire to get my homework for the night finished. I wish everyone a good night, and I look to Yusuke-kun with a smile. “I’ll beat you next time,” I tell him, and he grins briefly in return.

            “Sure, sure. You’re all talk.”

            I roll my eyes briefly, then ask generally where the recycling is. Azusa-san is the one to respond and directs me to it so I can dispose of my pop can. Juli repositions himself so that he’s snuggled around my neck, and I can feel how tense he is, ready to attack at any moment. I try not to feel exasperated, and feel relieved that at least he wasn’t waiting by the front entrance to be my escort like her threatened last night. But who knows – the longer we live here, the more likely that scenario becomes.

            Just as I climb the stairs to the loft, Masaomi-san steps out of the elevator with Subaru-san in tow. The eldest looks incredibly tired, his face drawn with bags beneath his eyes. Yet he still delivers a blinding smile when he sees me approaching. “Evening,” he greets me, and Subaru-san nods curtly as well; I figure he must have run out to pick up his brother from work, as all of their cars were in the driveway earlier, so he must not have driven himself to the hospital. “How’s your knee doing today?”

            In all honesty, I’d forgotten all about it. Especially after the tattoo, I can’t even feel it anymore. Subaru-san’s eyebrows scrunch together, accentuating his forehead with a crease between them. “You got hurt?” He asks, sounding surprisingly concerned. Not surprisingly; they are all nice people, and I think concern comes naturally to them. But I had thought he wasn’t that interested in me.

            “Only a little bit.” I extend my leg out and twist it a bit, making him look away for some reason. I’d removed the bandage Masaomi-san had applied, and you can’t even see the wound anymore. “It’s perfectly fine,” I diagnose. “I can’t even feel it.” I widen my eyes as much as I can and curl my fingers together in almost a begging pose. “You saved my life, doc.”

            He laughs good-naturedly, making his eyes close naturally. “I’m glad. Don’t hesitate to come to me any time you don’t feel well. Though…” He purses his lips, deep in thought, looking at where the scratch had been. I suppose it still is there, but you can’t see it. “It’s good it didn’t bleed too much,” he mumbles, almost to himself. I don’t respond to it, because I don’t want to pry.         

            “I will,” I tell him sincerely. “Thank you. I’m just heading down for the night; gotta finish up some work before bed.”

            “Is Wataru already asleep?” He’s suddenly much more invested in the conversation. I can’t help but smile, my dimples popping out in my cheeks.

            “Ukyo-san put him down about an hour or so ago,” I respond. “I don’t know if that means anything.”

            “He has a hard time sleeping without Masa-nii around,” Subaru-san says offhandedly, massaging the back of his neck.

            “I’d better check on him.” Masaomi-san is suddenly in a flurry, despite still being dressed in his work attire and looking exhausted. I grab his arm without even thinking about it, and he looks down at me with a polite curiosity, but I can tell he’s in a hurry.

            “You should grab a bite first,” I tell him. “We had gratin; it was delicious.” I try my best to summon up another smile, encouraging this time. “I know I’d want you to be feeling your best if I was Wataru-kun. Don’t make him worry.” I know I’m being invasive, butting in where I don’t belong, but I’m used to this with my father. Most of the time when he came home, he waited to eat and went straight to his room to work, despite looking absurdly tired from travelling and working nonstop. Besides, Masaomi-san was a doctor; he undoubtedly had to be at his best for his job.

            Both brothers stare at me, and I regret having said anything, while at the same time being thankful that I did; I would rather speak out than keep my mouth shut. Masaomi-san looks down, at my knee or my feet, I can’t tell, then back up at my face, brows slightly knitted together. “You’re right,” he murmurs, almost dazedly. “I do feel pretty hungry. I can spare a few moments.”

            “Yes,” I agree, uncertain as to why he’s saying that aloud, but glad he is anyway. “Thank you.” I don’t know why _I_ said that; it’s not like he’s doing it for me, but I felt like it was appropriate. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” Subaru-san hits the down button on the elevator panel and strides in before I do; I suppose he’s heading to his room as well, on the floor below mine. I climb in after him, and he pointedly looks away, but I tell myself not to mind. Juli transfers himself to the shoulder facing him and his gaze never leaves his face; I put a hand on him so he tones down the protector bit.

            “Thanks,” Subaru-san mumbles suddenly, making me jolt.

            “Oh,” I respond dumbly, glancing around as if I can discover why he’s expressing his gratitude. “Um, what for?”

            “He never puts himself first.” His hand is on the back of his neck again, and I see a very distinct toning on his bicep when he moves his arm to do so. I try not to look awed; I, admittedly, have a thing for muscles I’ve never been able to get over. “We’ve gotten so used to it we don’t bother telling him anymore.”

            I figure he’s referring to the eldest, as he definitely seems like the type. “He’s very kind,” I say in response. “I can definitely see that happening. I was hoping I wasn’t being nosy.”

            I smile at him, and he suddenly bursts out, “Don’t look at me.” I whip my head away and my squirrel starts bitching.

            “ _What?!_ How can he have the nerve to talk like that when you’re only trying to help? I should beat his ass! Chii, let me -”

            “Sorry!” He adds immediately, face as red as Yusuke-kun’s hair. “I didn’t mean – anything – by that. I just… I’m nervous… it’s hard to talk to you,” he finishes. It’s almost endearing to be hearing this from someone so tall and with such muscle definition, that it makes my heart sink a little. I’ve been reminded of someone else way too many times today, and I keep having to tell myself that the past is passed. He continues to bumble through his words, and we reach the fourth floor, so I step out and lean against the sliding door so that it doesn’t close on him. I’ve received the message; he doesn’t want to offend me.

            “Don’t worry about it,” I say, trying to talk over Juli’s chirping. “I know I’m making things awkward. You don’t have to force yourself to talk to me.”

            “I’m really not,” he stutters.

            I cock my head to the side, teasing. “You can just text me, if that’s easier.” I’m pretty sure this is the first brother I’ve actively given my number to thus far. We use infrared, silent the whole time, and I grin at him again when it’s over. “I’ll see you later, Subaru-san.”

            He doesn’t respond, but I get the feeling that he feels just a bit less awkward now, if only insubstantially. I’m smiling to myself as I head to my room, which does not bode over well with my furry companion. “You need to be harder on these boys.” His voice is saturated with disbelief. “They touch you too easily, you let them talk to you however they want to, you’re already trying to take care of them -”

            “It’s been a day.” I finally let the exasperation into my voice as I unlock the door and take my slippers off. “Please, just _relax._ And you make it sound like taking care of people is a bad thing.”

            “It’s best done with a grain of salt.” He enunciates each word. I think of Masaomi-san instead of myself when he says it, and I know I wouldn’t mind helping to take care of him. I like taking care of people, something I’d learned from being by myself too often. I know my mothering gets annoying, which can be attested to by Maho-chan, but it’s the best way I know to show that I care. Not that any of the men I live with need it; they can all handle themselves just fine, I’m sure, but I’d rather be overly annoying by hounding them than being absent and seeming like I don’t care at all. That’s what I decide, and it’s what I tell myself. _Thank you, and goodnight._

            “It’s fine,” is all I say out loud, and he stares me down. “It’s fine.”

            I set out some food and water for him and get to work, flicking on my desk lamp and turning off the main light source in the room to save on electricity; just an old habit, but it’s probably better to be considerate that way. Probably. I focus on math first, as that’s one of my worst subjects, and save English for last; listening to a bunch of Western music helps me increase my understanding of it a little bit, and I learned some basic words and phrases that actually help in school. I’m all but lost when it comes to all the different tenses of verbs and adjectives, but I can pick it up relatively quickly, I think. My dad helps me study it whenever he’s around; he’s pretty fluent in it for his line of work.

            Even though I’m basically certain, I still double-check to make sure I work tomorrow. It’s nice that I can stay at the same school, since my job is within a good distance and I can walk there from Hinode. I counted the amount of stops it took to get from the station around Hinode to the one closest to this neighbourhood, just to remain certain if I’m not paying attention to the crackling voice announcing the stops. I work every other day of week, starting with Tuesdays, and Yusuke-kun knows so I’m sure I don’t have to remind him. He’s very considerate, so I know he’d worry otherwise. Once I’m sure everything’s finished for tomorrow and make sure I have my wallet in my schoolbag already, I get changed for bed. I don’t bother shutting the curtains this time, since I don’t really think it matters that much anymore.

            Before I head to sleep I remove my bandage, releasing Deirdre in all her glory. Ironic that I’d gotten the tattoo for Temperance when I drink a bit more than I should. But it’s still beautiful, and I have to thank Izumi-san again; he’d achieved the watercolour effect perfectly. Now I’d have to be more careful about my sleeves in school than ever; this was the biggest one I had in the area visible when I wear short sleeves. Ah, summer uniforms, how I hate you. I’m pale enough that I can get away with saying that I have a health condition if the right teacher asks why I’m still wearing my cardigan. The right teacher being the PE teacher, Matsuda, who asks a bit too often. He’s on to me.

            I wonder if I should shower tomorrow, when I wake up. I’ll decide for certain when I get a look at my hair tomorrow; I may just scrape it up into a high bun. I want to ask first; I don’t know if they have a set shower schedule or what, but I’ll feel more comfortable knowing I’m not using up hot water if someone else needs to shower more than I do. I tie my hair in a braid, a loose one since my curls have enough grip to keep it together, and even though I can tell he’s still mad Juli crawls into bed with me. I can’t sleep right away so I play on my DS a bit, still grinding in Fire Emblem. I like to feel like I can demolish any enemy with minimal effort. Juli dozes off curled up on my lap, the pose similar to that of a cat, and I see some lights from the other rooms (apartments?) from outside. There are footsteps coming from upstairs and hushed voices, quiter than last night. I actively try to listen, knowing I’m eavesdropping, and stop when I hear my name thrown out once.

            I want to stay up later and talk with everyone. I want to get to know them more than I do, and I don’t want to keep making assumptions on their personalities and behaviours. This is permanent, I keep reminding myself, so it’s not like where on a tight schedule to get to know each other. But the sooner the better. I can tell they’re walking on eggshells around me, and I don’t like that very much; they can be themselves around me. Their normal, boyish selves, whatever that may entail.

            I should say this out loud, I think, but I don’t know who to address. It’d be embarrassing to say it in front of the whole family, but it could come to that if this continues. I decide to talk to Yusuke-kun about it tomorrow on the way to school; he’s someone who is distinctly bothered by this situation. I chart out my plan of attack as Juli sleepily crawls from my lap to his usual space by my shoulder when I turn off the lamp. I pull my duvet over my chest and close my eyes.

            Memories begin to surface behind my eyes as it quiets down upstairs. The scent of this room is still unfamiliar, even though traces of my perfume remain on my clothes and blankets. I’m remembering junior high and the nightmare it became for me, and how I still remember the way he smelled. It’s so strange and probably even creepy, but it still makes my heart creep low in my chest and pound like thunder. It’s an emotion I still can’t place; they say love and hate keep close company, that your pupils dilate when looking at someone you feel either emotion for. I turn into Juli, clenching my fists to my chest. He twitches in his sleep, indicating he’s dreaming, and surrounded by so many men who seem to keep reminding me, I wish more than ever that I can forget.


	11. Worry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vivi makes a more bold attempt in resolving the lingering discomfort between her and Yusuke. It's her first day back at work since moving in with the Asahinas, and everything seems to be going well... until she comes home.

** Chapter Ten **

**_Worry_ **

 

Yusuke-kun is psychic, it seems. He’s vehement that we don’t go to school together today. He tells me he’s leaving first and that I have to keep a certain pace behind him. I try not to let my temper show, because that is ridiculous. But we have to get along, I remind myself. I can just tell him at lunch. We say our goodbyes and he leaves first, practically running out the door, and I wait a few minutes before taking off as well.

            Since I can see him vaguely in the distance, I know how to get to the station. I try to memorize the way by myself, so that I’m not relying on him all the time. I commit certain houses with distinct features as landmarks to memory – one has a bright blue door, another has cute pink shutters. I heave a sigh without thinking about it. I suddenly feel lonelier than I did basically living by myself.

            I hear a zipping sound behind me, and I place it as the wheels of a bicycle against the ground and the spokes spinning in an even rhythm. I move to the far side of the sidewalk, just in case, but the noise slows down as it grows in volume, meaning it’s getting closer. It stops beside me, and I look over to see Iori-kun.

            “Morning again,” I joke, since we’d had breakfast together.

            “You’re going to be late if you keep going like this,” he tells me, using one of his legs as a stand to keep his bike in place. It’s a very pale mint green, sleek and thin with a shape that’s reminiscent of the seventies. “Hop on.”

            “Oh,” I mutter, glancing around as I’m sure tandem is illegal. But he’s waiting with a polite smile on his face, so I hike my bag over my shoulder and clamber over the frame so that I’m straddling the seat behind him. My heart is aflutter as I’m pressed close to his back and he tells me to hold on tight. I’m panicking; do I put my arms on his shoulders or around his waist? I go for lightly putting my hands around his waist, going with what I see on TV more often. It’s solid and warm underneath his uniform, and I’m surprised at how much taller he is like this; I can barely see over his shoulders.

            “I’ll take you to the station,” he says, voice calm and collected as ever. I suppose a ‘prince’ like him is probably used to being kind like this. “You holding on?” I nod, before realizing he probably can’t see, then vocalize the affirmative. He kicks off and I unconsciously put my arms a bit tighter around him, momentarily jarred by the movement.

            We pass Yusuke-kun in no time, the spokes shrieking like cicadas when he moves to go down a hill. He stares at us, open-mouthed, and I laugh into Iori-kun’s back. I feel his frame shaking from a soft chuckle, as well. My hair whips around my face a bit, the breeze cool and snapping against my face, and my stomach is in my chest like going on a loop in a roller coaster. Iori-kun smells fresh and like mint soap, simple yet heartclenching. We arrive at the outside of the station and I hold his shoulder to steady myself as I climb off, and I turn to him with a smile.

            “Thank you so much,” I tell him, and he smiles back, disarming and not even a little winded with the extra weight on the back of his ride. I suppose it was essentially downhill, but still, I’m heavier than most. Suddenly I’m feeling the shame that I’d missed out on before.

            “Any time,” he tells me sincerely. “I’ll see you at home.”

            I’m early for the train with the time that saved, so I wait for Yusuke-kun. He can’t complain if we take the train together; lots of people take the train together, and it doesn’t necessarily indicate that they live together. He arrives a little out of breath, as if he ran the rest of the way.

            “You okay?” I ask, leaning down slightly. He looks up at me and makes a bit of a face.

            “Your hair’s messed up.” I try combing it back into place with my fingers, then decide I’ll just retie my bun. I do it while we’re waiting on the platform, untangling my elastic from my vengeful locks and letting it fall down my back. I notice him staring.

            “Is it that bad?” I ask, aghast. How did my hair get so mussed when most of it was in a bun? I’m more self-conscious than ever as I paste down the flyaways with my hands.      

            “No, it’s just – been a while.” I don’t know what he means, but I hurriedly tie it back up into its high bun before the train pulls in and sends it into a flurry of frizz. We step inside and find ourselves cornered against a window again, so I decide now’s the time.

            “So,” I begin slowly, casually. He just grunts in response, either already irritated and he is psychic or something pissed him off earlier.

            “Why are things so awkward between us at home?” He starts sputtering and spirals into a coughing fit, so I pat him on the back to help him get it all out.

            “Um.” He’s at a loss for words, I see. “It’s just… the whole thing is awkward!” He’s looking away, pointedly, and I notice the similarities in his attitude towards me – with Subaru-san, that is. “One day I only see you in class, the next you’re at my house all the time.” He’s silent for a moment, stewing in his own thoughts, and I keep quiet but try to keep eye contact so he knows I want him to continue. “It’s just… weird. I already told you it didn’t upset me.” He meets my eyes for a second, so I nod. “I _want_ to be more comfortable with you.”

            We immediately fall quiet after he says that, both a bit startled that he did. Then we begin laughing nervously at the same time. “I mean, I meant it, but like not in a weird way, like - ”

            “I get it,” I tell him. “Now the feelings stick is passed to me.” We’re nearing our stop, so I try to make it quick, and someone shifts so that we’re effectively squished closer together. If that wasn’t a sign from the universe I don’t know what is. “I feel the same way, but I don’t want you to keep avoiding me.” He makes a face like he’s exaggeratedly weighing that in his mind, tilting his head side to side. “I know that’s easier, and sometimes I feel like doing it, too. I’m not the best at talking to people, and the nonsense that’s come out of my mouth these past couple of days…” I scrub my hand down my face. “It’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed.”

            “Don’t be,” he says hurriedly. “I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, because I have been. I’ve never really known how to talk to you.” He grimaces. “I’m the one who should be embarrassed.” 

            “I made a rather striking first impression,” I admit. “I’d have a tough time talking to me, too. But we’re in each other’s lives for the long run, now, so let’s talk more. Even if we end up embarrassing ourselves.”

            “That just embarrassed me,” he says, scrubbing the back of his neck. Like Subaru-san, again. I wonder if they’ve all picked up that habit – it would be hilarious if they have. We’re finally able to file out of the train and breathe again, and we’re a bit closer this time as we hike the rest of the way to school. “But I’m with you.”

            “Each day tell me a random fact about you,” I say suddenly, inspired, “and I’ll do the same.”

            “That’s terrible.”

            “But it’s a good way to get to know one another!”

            “Yeah, if you’re speed-dating.” He looks like he immediately regrets saying that. He ponders for a moment as we approach the entrance, Matsuda by the gate checking for any non-regulation uniform alterations. I wince. “Um, I can’t hold my booze well.”

            I stare at him. “That’s the first thing that comes to mind when you’re talking to me?”

            He shrugs. “Can you blame me?”

            “Hinata,” Matsuda calls out to me. I look at him with a cordial smile. “The cardigan?”

            “Sensei, I’m so cold I think I’ll die if I take it off.”

            “We’ll talk about this later.” Yusuke-kun and I are dismissed, and he starts shaking his head. “He loves picking on you.”

            “For whatever reason. Anyway, I suppose I can’t blame you for that. I, on the other hand…”

            “Can hold your liquor like a middle-aged Irish man who has to officiate his own son’s funeral? I’m aware.” I roll my eyes back and forth, thinking that it was a bit of an exaggeration, but I attribute it to my genes.

            This time we keep talking even when we reach the classroom. His expression indicates that he’s forcing himself to, just a bit, and I really appreciate it. I don’t say so, because I fear it may embarrass him even more, and he looks like he’s building up to something.

            “What was with you and Iori this morning?” He asks finally, before we take our respective seats. The classroom is still fairly empty; Maho-chan hasn’t arrived yet, so I linger around Yusuke-kun’s desk a bit longer.

            “Oh, that was super nice of him,” I respond, still reeling from the whole experience. “He was worried I’d be late, so he gave me a lift to the station.”

            “Some people were saying they thought you were his girlfriend.” He’s muttering now, so I have to lean down a bit to hear him. “Girls from his school. They seemed a bit upset, too…”

            “Hm.” I just shrug. “Well, they’re wrong, obviously. Not like it matters what they think, yeah?”

            “Then we should be able to go to school together.”

            I find myself laughing at that without even thinking about it. “We’ve always been able to, Yusuke-kun. I was happy going along with whatever you wanted. Whatever makes this easier on you.”

            “I want to go together.” He’s looking right at me when he says it, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, his brows furrowed. He looks like he may burst a blood vessel.

            “We will,” I respond. “It’s easier that way. It’s not like people will say we’re dating; they know better anyway.” I said it to take some pressure off of him, but instead he looks a bit crushed. If I didn’t know any better I would have gotten the wrong idea about that.

            Maho-chan sees me through the classroom window and launches herself into the room, making an entrance. “Hello, dolly.” She slings an arm around my shoulder to drag me over to my seat. I wave to Yusuke-kun with a smile, and he gives a meek one in return. “How’s your tat feeling today?”

            “She’s fine.” She doesn’t bother chewing me out for using a personal pronoun for the ink imprinted on my skin. “She’s already peeling, meaning she’ll be itchy soon.” I make a face. “Not looking forward to that.”

            “Do not scratch,” she reminds me firmly, slapping my hand playfully. “What if your ruin her perfection?”

            “I know.” I was hyper paranoid about that, even with my first, very impulsive tattoo. The best thing to do is poke them or smack them, I’ve found, but it’s best to do nothing at all.

            “You and Asahina seem pretty close lately,” she comments suddenly, gazing at me expectantly. She tried a new eyeliner look, I notice. I compliment her on it; it makes her doe eyes look bigger and more innocent, but she just waves me off. Dammit.

            “We live closer together now,” I say, going with the excuse I’d thought of yesterday. I’m mighty proud of myself, because it’s not like she can disagree; she has no idea where the new house is located. I wonder about if I’ll ever be able to invite her over some day –

            “He’s one of your new brothers, isn’t he.”

            “Dammit, Mahoko!” I hiss, leaning forward to growl at her. I’m taking on the attitude of Juli today, it seems. “You can’t tell anybody. He didn’t even want you to know.”

            “I can’t believe it.” Judging from her expression, she really can’t. “That must be so _weird_. I mean the whole thing’s weird to begin with, but now you’re living with someone you’ve only ever talked to in school.” She considers. “Occasionally outside of school, but I’d be surprised if you remember.”

            “Do you all think I’m some kind of lush?”

            “We’ve had interventions behind your back. Regardless, I can get why he doesn’t want anyone to know.” She winces. “It must be awkward.”

            “It really is, but we’re working through it, I think. We’ve never been incredibly close, so I’m looking at this as an opportunity.”

            “I wonder what Sasakura will think.” I told her not to tell anyone, so I know she means this completely hypothetically. One of the reasons I’ve stayed friends with Maho-chan even though I’m aware of the fact that I’m hard to deal with is that she’s loyal to the core, and she never breaks a promise. There was a time when things got a bit rocky, but she stood by me, so I vowed to myself I’d always do the same for her. It didn’t feel right not having her know, so I’m a bit relieved now that she does. “He’d probably flip a gasket.”

            “I think anyone would.” The teacher walks in at that moment, so we lean closer to whisper for a few more seconds. “Try not to act weird around him, okay? He’s my brother now.”

            “Oh.” She shudders. “Oh god.” Then she turns away and I have to stifle a giggle. The shape of the word in my mouth even makes me feel weird, in reference to Yusuke-kun or any of my others brothers, but saying it aloud also makes me feel… happy.

            I think of how I’m able to use the word ‘mom’ now, when I’m talking about a living person. I hope that someday I’ll be comfortable with referring to Miwa-san as such. She might be happy if I do. I’m smiling to myself as our teacher begins the lesson, and I bring out my homework from last night to be checked.

}{

            I make things worse when I high-five Yusuke-kun goodbye as he’s leaving to go to his job and I leave for mine. Maho-chan would have smacked me over the head if she hadn’t known that the result would be her getting it back tenfold without me consciously deciding to do so. Way to not make things awkward. A high-five? My stomach is clenching, screaming at me to repent for my sins.

            Erika-chan and I work at the same place, so we head there together. Maho-chan makes me promise to text her more details on my living situation later, and while I roll my eyes at her I feel a bit eager to do so. I love gushing about things with her. Erika-chan happens to overhear and asks me, “You moved?”

            “Yup,” I respond. “A little ways away from here. It’s no big deal, though; I’m still going to keep working at the same place.”

            “Thank god.” She breathes a sigh of relief. “I don’t know if I’d be able to handle working there without you. You’re the only person I really know; it’s good to have someone to talk to.”

            “I agree completely.” The pressure is on her more than me at work; Erika-chan is absolutely stunning, and most of our clientele is of a male demographic to come and see her in real life. I’m happy to support her and she’s really a great person to talk to, so witty and no-nonsense. There have been very rare cases in which we’ve had to escort some of the rowdier customers out of the building. It’s the kind of thing that no one would think happens in real life, and I was shocked enough when it actually happens. But I’ll gladly be her yippy little guard dog, despite the fact that she’s a head taller than me and has the posture of a damn queen.

            We reach our workplace, a café a couple blocks away from Izumi-san’s tattoo parlor. It’s on the smaller side and family-owned, and there are a few more people our age who work there, most of which we go to school with. The décor is on the minimalistic side, mostly done in monochrome shades ranging from white to light gray, with house plants out the wazoo. There are large windows so that the primary light source is natural, and everything is baked in-store. Our uniforms are incredibly simplistic; just a white top with black pants and comfy shoes. The owners themselves interviewed us and hired us on a trial basis, which is where Erika-chan and I really started to get to know one another. We were officially hired last year, having received approval from the owner and both of her children, who are basically a decade older than us.

            It’s a pretty popular place, all things considered. There’s no locker room so we take turns changing in the employee washroom. I use a white sleeveless tee-shirt as my uniform, so that my new tattoo is exposed in all her glory. Other places may say it’s bad for business, but the owner is in love with all of mine. We’ve yet to have any of our teachers as customers, thankfully; this place might be a bit too hip for most of them. Suffice to say, other than Maho-chan, Erika-chan is one of the only people who knows about my tattoos. She’s also heavily appreciative of them, which is pleasant, but it’s not like I got them because I wanted them to be seen or to be complimented. There was just something about having the images play on my skin that made me excited every time I looked at them.

            I finish tying my apron around my waist outside of the changing room and stick my notepad and pen in the front pocket. The owner, Ryouko Nishikawa, greets me in the kitchen. She notices Deirdre and swoops down like a hawk, oohing and ahing over the worksmanship. I’d have to let Izumi-san know people are already loving it. She’s a cute little lady, having graduated from her forties last year, who always keeps her hair in a sleek black bun and has a smile permanently stuck on her face. Her children are her doubles, essentially, if not a bit more curt. I head out on the floor to get sweeping the entrance before customers start streaming in.

            “Ooh, is that a new one?” Erika-chan asks, poking her head outside of the glass door, which sets off the cheerful little chime.

            “Yeah,” I respond, holding it out for her to see. She doesn’t merely look but grabs my wrist and twists it around gently to examine from all sides. She’s wearing gold bangles and a musky scent emanates from her wrist. I feel that awe that swoops over you when in the presence of a beautiful popular girl, making your chest warm with the tiniest twinge of envy.

            “I love it,” she swoons. “The wing is so detailed… Imai’s brother did this one, too?” I nod. “I’ll have to book him in for mine.”

            “Ooh, what do you want to get?”

            “I’m still undecided,” she says, attempting to look like she’s doing more by holding out the dustpan for me. “Yours is making me think about a bird, for sure. The wing is just gorgeous.”

            We continue talking about tattoos and how much they hurt as we set out the evening menu and give the tables a once-over with a rag and all-purpose. Ryouko-san’s son, Hayato-san, starts restocking the glass display cases with the freshly baked cakes, tarts, and cookies – amongst other things that make my mouth water. If there’s any left at the end of the night, I remind myself to buy one of the cherry eclairs. He notices me staring and waves me away; I know he doesn’t dislike me, but he certainly dislikes the amount of dishes I’ve broken over the past year.

            We get a few customers in about half an hour into my shift. I greet them at the door and show them to their seats, delivering some water and allowing them some time to deliberate over what they’d like. When they both want the cherry eclairs I try not to make a face, and bring them over along with their chai latte and matcha. I hear Hayato-san grumbling about lattes, and wondering about what happened to straight black coffee, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes. People like what they like and that’s fine. I find myself wishing his sister, Umi-san, was working today. She usually keeps his cynical comments to a minimum.

            I check my phone on my break only to discover that – surprise – she’s dead. It figures that last night, when I felt so together for getting all my work done, I’d forgotten to charge it. Juli usually reminds me, but he was in such a bad mood… I feel guilty for making him feel that way. His heart is in the right place; he only wants to keep me safe and from getting hurt again. Hayato-san notices and slides me something in ne of their plain white takeout cartons, the name of the café printed in simple black lettering in the bottom right corner.

            I look up at him – he’s probably around six-four – curiously, and he just shrugs. “For your break. Don’t be looking so upset around our customers.”

            It’s a cherry éclair. I could kiss him. I split it with Erika-chan and we do a bit of homework on our break; she helps me with my math. I’d have offered to help her in her studies if she wasn’t stellar in English and everything else. She had to be the epitome of perfection if I believed that existed, but I could never place that kind of expectation on someone. Erika-chan is very good at handling the attention she receives, but I know too much makes her uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t it effect negatively is the real question.

            Since we’re curly-haired sisters we spend a good chunk of our break trying to tame the manes into more manageable updos meant for food service. It’s undoubtedly more difficult for her, since hers are more tight and bunched together than mine are. I decide with certainty that I need to shower tonight when I get home. Thinking about it makes me wonder about what Ukyo-san’s cooking tonight; I feel a bit better knowing that Kaname-san is his helper tonight rather than him doing it alone. Yusuke-kun’s shift is over around the same time as mine, so I figure we’ll get home around the same time as well. Before I get back to work I quadruple check a map of the train stations and where I’m going on the internet; it’ll be way darker this time, and I’d like to be perfectly sure before I go off by myself.

            It’s odd; I’ve known these men for two days and I find myself anxious to see them. I’m a bit miffed by this, as I’m used to missing my father, but I’ve known him forever. Maybe it’s just the atmosphere I miss, the absolute certainty of a home and a family that I’ve never had, but something tells me that’s not it. I feel strangely lonely when I’m not at the Asahina house, and I barely even know them. It must be because I’ve been alone for so long. I try to calm myself down in the bathroom, as I very briefly felt nauseous. How am I ever going to be alone again at this rate?

            I think about what Juli would say if he was here. He’d hit me, tell me I’m overreacting, because I absolutely am. I don’t know what’s making think I’m going to be alone, or that I _need_ the Asahinas in my life already, but Vivi Hinata needs to calm. The fuck. Down. I spend a few more moments with myself and dab some water on the back of my neck, which had beaded out in a cold sweat. I’m an anxious person by nature, and I think the change in environment is finally getting to me.

            I wish I can have Erika-chan’s confidence, but more than that, I’m glad I have the ability to switch expressions like theatrical masks. The rest of the night I’m able to keep it together until my heartbeat settles and I’m not sweating bullets anymore. The cherry éclair’s fresh flavour lingers in my mouth, and I greedily gulp down ice water every chance I get. I feel myself again just before the end of my shift and we’re putting everything away for the night. Erika-chan and I get changed and head out for the night; she lives close to the neighbourhood the Asahinas are in, so we’re taking the train together. I’m immensely relieved; walking by myself at night understandably makes me nervous, and I’m incredibly paranoid about it.

            She shows me pictures of the tattoos she wants on the train. It’s considerably emptier at night than it is in the morning, most of its passengers dressed in business suits or clothes suited for popping into the convenience store. We try to keep our voices low considering that most of them look exhausted. It’s a different vibe at night; the city lights are flashing by like watching shooting stars up close. The moon is a bit larger than a crescent tonight, reflecting of the glass of the city. Variations of colognes, perfumes, sweat, and other bodily scents permeate the air, but it’s not entirely stuffy in this car; just a bit warm. When it pulls to our stop, Erika-chan and I say our goodbyes at the station, and I hope she gets home safe. I offer to walk her home, because I’d rather be certain that she gets there in the same condition I see her now, but she just waves me off and tells me not to worry.

            I stop at a convenience store on the way home, suspiciously still in my school uniform this late. I buy a peach tea from the refrigerator along with some chocolate wafers, like I always do when I get home from work. This place is a bit different than the store by my old house; it’s in amazingly better condition and far more well-stocked. But old habits die hard. Only last week I was buying the same treats and chilling in the park by my house for about an hour before I got scared and ran home. I don’t know if there’s a park like that nearby, but I figure it’s better to head straight home anyway. I’m eager for dinner and to see everyone again, especially Juli.

            I finish my wafers almost instantly after paying for them, and keep my drink in hand as I head back to Sunrise Residence. My legs barely ache from all the walking and standing I’ve done, which I can thank jujutsu for. The peach tea is sweet and refreshing sliding down my throat, and I feel in a way better mood than I had earlier. I wonder if Yusuke-kun’s home already, or if I’ll run into him on the way.

            I do run into one of my brothers, but it’s not him. I’m striding down the street purposefully, enjoying the night air and the cool breeze against my legs when I see a figure approaching me hurriedly from up ahead. At first I’m on guard, tensing my arms and legs for fight rather than flight even though the opposite should be the case in an attacker situation, but I realize I recognize the frame even from far away. I can see coyishly spiked hair and figure it’s Kaname-san, dressed in his casual clothes rather than his robes. I smile when I see him coming towards me, until I get a good look at his face when he passes beneath a streetlight. We’re only a short distance from the mansion, so I immediately think something’s wrong.

            I rush to meet him, almost dropping my tea in the process. “Hey,” I greet him when he’s within earshot. “Is everything okay?”

            When he’s right in front of me, I see he’s out of breath. Before I can say anything else, his arms are around me, too hot and his body heaving. I’m shocked into stillness, holding my can of tea precariously away from him, and awkwardly patting his back in response. “What’s wrong?” I ask with a short laugh, unsure of what to make from this behaviour.

            He pulls away slowly, towering over me, and his brows are crushed together. I have trouble analysing what emotions are playing out on his face, but I think it could maybe be anger. I’ve never seen him anything but happy and relaxed, so I’m more shocked by that than I was by the hug.

            He keeps his hands tight on my shoulders as his golden eyes seem to plead with me. “Where were you?” He demands, breathing roughly. “We were worried sick. You didn’t even bother to call any of us, and you just walk up and ask what’s wrong?” With each word his voice started to grow in volume. My eyes are wide, an animal cornered by its prey, and I feel rigid in place. My heart is racing, yet feels like it’s stopped at the same time. Ice is in my blood, and my hands start sweating so badly the tea slips away from me. I scream at it in the back of my mind, begging for it not to spill, but of course it’s in vain.

            I’m struggling to find words; they seem to be caught in my throat. The night had been pleasantly cool seconds ago, but now it’s far too hot. “I… I was at work,” I say finally, my voice choked and distorted.

            “Why didn’t you say anything?” He begs, shaking me a little.

            “I… forgot?” I can tell he doesn’t like that answer by the way his grip on my shoulders tightens. It may have hurt anyone else but I don’t really feel it. “I – I – I just…” I quickly realize I’m not going to do anything but stutter because my thoughts are everywhere.

            He can tell I’m frightened, if that’s the right way to describe it. His grip eases, as does the massive crease between his eyebrows, marring his handsome features. “We thought something had happened.” His removes his hands altogether, and there’s a tense moment of silence between us. “Your phone?” He asks finally.

            “I forgot to charge it last night.” My voice is small.

            A few more of my thundering heartbeats pass. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice gruff. He drags a hand along his jaw, eyes fathomless. “I can understand if you feel uncomfortable reporting everything to us. But… we didn’t know if you were safe. We’re not used to having a girl around, and anything can happen.” He apologizes again, seemingly having regained his normal cool composure.

            “You were worried,” I say, the words sour in my mouth, as I’m unused to them.

            “Of course,” he says, a bit startled. “Your our sister. We take care of each other.”

            Suddenly my eyes feel hot. I haven’t felt whatever emotions are coursing through me for some time. There’s shame in there, guilt for making them worry, but my throat is choked up. I realize I’m close to crying, and do everything within my body’s power to keep that from happening. That’s not something he needs to see, but he deserves an explanation. I have to tell everyone at home how sorry I am, that I shouldn’t have made assumptions. I just…

            “I’m so sorry,” I say aloud, my voice a croak. “I’m not used… to having anyone waiting for me at home. I really just forgot to let you know.” I have to sniff, and I try to hide it as best I can so that he doesn’t worry even more. “Yusuke-kun knows about my job, so I just figured he’d let you know. That was terrible of me. I can’t believe I…” I trail off, at a loss for words at my own stupidity.

            “Hey, hey,” Kaname-san says soothingly, rubbing comforting hands down my arms. I have no right to be the one being comforted right now, but I didn’t have the strength to push him away. “It’s okay. We just need to talk about this with everyone when we get home. We’re going to worry about you regardless of whether or not we know where you’re going to be so…” He snorts, very elegantly. “We should have thought a bit more about where you’d be instead of freaking out. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

            I want to apologize, over and over again for making them feel things they never should have had to. I’d always thought of myself as responsible, but I overlooked such a common courtesy that I feel like an absolute bigot. Instead I say, “Thank you,” because I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.

            I’ve been cared about my whole life. Juli’s protectiveness, and my father being with me whenever he could, my paternal grandparents. They all showed love in different ways. But I’d never been confronted with concern like this before, so open and honest. It tore into a part of me I didn’t know existed. I knew they were kind, but I had no idea it would go this far. I gather myself as best as I can, and summon up a smile.

            “Whoa, what’s going on here?” It’s Yusuke-kun’s voice from behind us, coming up with one hand in his pocket and another holding a popsicle. He looks suddenly very concerned when he gets a good look at my dumbass grin.

            “Yuu-chan,” Kaname-san drawls, and suddenly I feel a bit worried myself. “Come here, kid. Let’s all go home together.” He throws an arm around his younger brother’s shoulders, a bit too tight as Yusuke-kun chokes a little and drops his ice cream trying to force him off. There’s been two food casualties tonight, far too many for my liking. Kaname-san drags him up to me, then holds out his other hand. A bit shy, I take it and we walk the rest of the way home, Yusuke-kun asking what’s wrong, and Kaname-san giving very passive aggressive responses.

            Everyone’s on the fifth floor, and the atmosphere is incredibly tense. I’m ambushed by Tsubaki-san the moment he sees me, and before he can say anything - I know he’s going to because he takes a deep breath in and stirs up my hair – I explain myself as simply and curtly as I can. Since there was really nothing to worry about, I figure keeping my explanation short and honest is the best course of action. For some reason Tsubaki-san is approaching Yusuke-kun with a threat very clearly written in his posture, though none of this is remotely his fault. I say as such, and even he apologizes to me. That worsens my guilt, and Masaomi-san comes in and simply dismisses the issue.

            “Everything’s fine,” he says simply, his usual smile in place. “Let’s just go on with tonight. This didn’t even happen. Vivi-chan, do us a favor and put your work schedule up, okay?”

            “Will do!” And I do, that second. I bolt down the stairs and add it to the chart with all the stickers, using the silver one to mark the days I work. Ukyo-san is nodding in response, and we organize it so that I have the easier chores those nights, his hand on my shoulder. I really had worried all of them. I should feel guilt to my very core, but instead it’s primarily guilt with a cheeky bit of pleasure in there. It’s nice to have someone waiting for you, to worry for you, even if it makes you feel a bit sick inside.

            I eat the dinner he had put away for me with Yusuke-kun, and we talk about our homework instead of the incident. It’s better that way, I think. I really would like to go on pretending like this never happened, that I’d never made them feel like this. But I know I’ll never forget, for the rest of my life, how loved I feel right now. It’s almost embarrassing. Juli somehow manages to get downstairs, completely nonchalant, and I share my dinner with him. He knows my work schedule, and was expecting me home late tonight. I’m glad he doesn’t seem to know what transpired; it would probably make him sick to his stomach.

            “I really am sorry,” Yusuke-kun says to me, his eyes glazed over with guilt. Before he can say anything else, I cut him off.

            “It’s not your fault in the slightest,” I say vehemently. “Please don’t think that it is. My business isn’t your responsibility.”

            “But I’m taking care of you from now on, too,” he argues, brows furrowed.

            “So am I. And in the spirit of taking care of each other, let’s forget that this ever happened. Because nothing, really, did happen.” I raise my eyebrows in turn, daring him to challenge me, so he turns his gaze to his food and mutters into it as he continues eating. I smile, appeased, and wish Wataru-kun a goodnight, along with Masaomi-san, Iori-kun, and Subaru-san.

            “Years were taken off my life,” Tsubaki-san breathes, settling in the chair next to me. “And then you brought them back. I need a beer.”

            Kaname-san slides one across the table to him. “Lou-chan wanted to drive around for you.”  
            I choke on my food. “Please tell me he didn’t.”

            “We didn’t let it get that far.” Azusa-san seems to be one of the only ones not drinking this time. I’m glad he always seems expressionless and cool; he had probably been levelheaded the whole time. I send a silent prayer out to him, and he smiles at me. “I think he got so stressed out he’s passed out on the couch.”

            “Who’s dragging him to his room this time?” None of them volunteer, so I decide to. Tsubaki-san snorts, but Yusuke-kun has a faraway look in his eyes.

            “She’s not kidding,” he mutters. “Best let her do it. She can manage better than any of you.”

            They all look terribly lost, but I just smile and smack him lightly, embarrassed. He coughs.

            “Where do you work?” Tsubaki-san asks, crossing his arms on the table and leaning into them. I pass his beer to him, as his new position made it difficult to reach.

            “A café close to our school.” I tell them the name, and they’ve never heard of it. I’m not surprised. It is a bit of a hole in the wall.

            “If you ever need a ride home, don’t hesitate to ask,” his twin offers, cordial as ever. They really like to offer me rides – not that I’m complaining. I’d be happy to take them up on it, more to spend time with them rather than for convenience. A little voice in the back of my mind wonders if that’s why they offer them to me as well, and even though it’s presumptuous to hope, I still find myself blushing at the thought. I’ll be over the moon if that’s the case.

            As we finish our leftovers, Yusuke-kun and I are about to retreat for the night. I quickly do our dishes, still infatuated with their dish soap. I check the schedule and see I’m doing laundry tomorrow, and get an overly girlish excitement in me. I think it’s safe to say that laundry’s my kink – not to say that it turns me on, but it comes pretty close. The smell of clean sheets is just incomparable, not to mention how it feels sleeping on them. I’m honestly hoping no one walks in on me doing it – it could be a bit of a strange sight.

            I’m climbing the stairs to the loft when Azusa-san comes from the direction of the bathroom. We smile at each other, and I realize he may be the one I’ve spoken to the least. He doesn’t seem to feel the need to converse with me too much, which I’m only partially thankful for; the rest is disappointment. I’d like to get to know him, too, naturally.

            He walks up to me, completely nonchalant, and I assume it’s to say goodnight. So I’m surprised when he places a hand on my head. “Don’t make us worry like that,” he murmurs, the eyes behind his glasses awfully disarming. In this moment I swear I see no resemblance between him and Tsubaki-san; their faces are carbon copies of each other, but he couldn’t look more different. “You don’t want to be punished if it happens again, do you?”

            Oh shit.

_Oh shit._

            “Er, no,” I say, trying not to giggle like a schoolgirl. Which I am. But I’m good at pretending I’m not.

            “Good.” He leans away, smiling brightly. “Have a good sleep.”

            “See you tomorrow,” I respond, and he laughs a little.

            Juli, of course, makes a comment when we’re alone in the elevator. “Of course you’re not even safe with that one,” he growls. “You can never let your guard down.”

            I’m still busy trying to get my heartrate under control. “Yep. You got me.”

            That makes him look at me, the muscles in his brow furrowed, if that’s possible. “Chii? You alright?”

            “I need a shower,” I respond as we stop at the fourth floor and I pull my key from my pocket. I press my hand to my cheek, then to my head; Tsubaki-san had done the same thing, and I’d also felt a phantom feeling lingering then. But it was his twin’s words that left me feeling a bit unsteady. “A cold one,” I add, shutting the door behind me and locking it, like I did the past two nights. But now it seems to carry a whole different meaning.

            I wrap my tattoo up; can’t get it wet until it’s healed almost completely. It’s indescribably nice to lather shampoo and conditioner into the nest on my head, and when it’s wet my hair reaches to just below my hips. It takes a while to work everything in, but I’m glad to feel nice and clean again. 

            I chat on the phone with Maho-chan while I finish up the small amount of homework I have left. When she asks me what happened when I got home, I give her a very vague response. I don’t like keeping things from her, yes, but… this was my first major mistake since coming here, and I’m not ready to admit that. Instead I settle for telling her that they worried about me, just because of how selfless they are. She knows I’m leaving something out, but leaves it for another time. I know this, because she threatens me about it.

            When I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, noting how upstairs is awfully quiet tonight, I think of my brothers gathered in the loft just to make sure I was safe. I think of how I’d called Yusuke-kun my brother out loud today. The feel of Iori-kun’s back against my chest. The look in Azusa-san’s eyes when he said the word ‘punishment’.

            I fall asleep smiling, and to the sound of Juli’s irate grumbling.


End file.
